Two things happened recently that reminded me why I cuss sometimes.

Not all the time. Not in sacred or tender moments. But sometimes life hands you a situation that just… requires a cuss word. Like seasoning — not always necessary, but when it is, you know.

And honestly? I’m just being me. A woman who carries both fire and softness. A woman with instincts intact — the kind Clarissa Pinkola Estés writes about — the kind that refuses to be trimmed down to something tame.

I like that about myself. I like that I can be both.

But apparently, this is confusing for some people.

The Afternoon at the Lake

I was at the lake practicing karate — headphones in, minding my business, enjoying the quiet.

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed an older man watching me. Fine. People stare.

But then he walked right up and said:

“I don’t like women who fight.”

I said, “Okay,” and kept going.

But he wasn’t done.

“I don’t understand why you need to fight.”

I took the kind of deep breath that says, Give me patience, because strength I already have.

Then I said:

“It’s not about fighting. It’s about learning to protect myself.”

He blinked like this was brand‑new information.

So I asked:

“Are we going to have a problem that I need to worry about?”

He panicked. “No, no, no…”

And that’s when I gave him the truth:

“I can’t figure out why people want to hurt others, so that women have to learn to protect themselves. That’s the real question.”

Then I ended it like a woman who has errands to run:

“I’m going to get back to my practice. Have a nice day.”

The Comment About Cussing

A few days later, a male family member watched my No Bullshit Truth series and said:

“Do you have to cuss? It’s not very lady‑like.”

Sir… I’m a middle‑aged woman. I know how to be lady‑like when it’s appropriate — and I also know when it’s not required.

But I didn’t say that. I just smiled and thought:

Here we go — someone trying to understand me through their own idea of what a woman “should” sound like.

I don’t cuss because I’m angry. I cuss because sometimes the truth needs to land without a decorative throw pillow.

And also because… sometimes life just hands you a moment that deserves a good, honest word with some weight on it.

What These Two Moments Have in Common

Neither situation was dramatic. Neither was hostile. But both revealed the same thing:

People get uncomfortable when you don’t fit the version of you they’ve created in their minds.

A woman who cusses? Unexpected. A woman who practices karate? Unexpected. A woman who is soft and strong? Unexpected.

Not wrong. Not threatening. Just outside the script.

And that’s where the deeper conversation begins.

Why This Matters for Men and Women Both

This isn’t about men vs. women. It’s about the scripts we’ve all inherited.

For Women

We were taught to be predictable. To stay within the lines. To be understandable, agreeable, and easy to digest.

For Men

Many were taught the opposite script: Be steady. Be in control. Know what to expect.

So when a woman shows up with complexity — fire and softness — it can feel like the rules changed without warning.

Not because she’s wrong. Not because he’s wrong. But because both were handed different maps.

And when two people are using different maps, even simple terrain feels confusing.

A Little Wild Woman Wisdom

This is where Clarissa Pinkola Estés — author of Women Who Run With the Wolves — offers something helpful.

Estés is a Jungian psychoanalyst and storyteller who spent decades studying what cultures do to women’s instincts. Her message isn’t about being wild in a chaotic way. It’s about being wild in a whole way.

She teaches that when a woman is connected to her instincts:

• she becomes harder to predict

• harder to categorize

• harder to domesticate

• and much easier to misunderstand

Not because she’s doing anything wrong — but because she’s no longer performing the version of herself that makes others comfortable.

That’s what these two encounters were really about. Not cussing. Not karate. Not “lady‑like.”

Just a woman being whole in a world that prefers her in pieces.

Practical Ways Forward

Assume complexity, not contradiction. A woman who cusses can also be kind. A woman who fights can also be gentle. A woman who is soft can also be fierce.

Ask instead of assuming. Curiosity builds bridges. Assumptions build walls.

Let people be more than one thing. Men and women both deserve that freedom.

Notice when discomfort is really unfamiliarity. Sometimes we’re not bothered — we’re just not used to it.

Celebrate the instinctive, alive parts of each other. Not the chaos — the authenticity.

Bringing It Home

I’m not trying to be rebellious. I’m not trying to be edgy. I’m not trying to be anything.

I’m just being whole.

A woman who cusses and kicks. A woman who is soft and strong. A woman who is instinctive, intuitive, and not here to shrink for anyone’s comfort.

If that surprises people, maybe it’s not because I’m too much — maybe it’s because we’ve all been taught to expect too little.

Author’s Note

I write pieces like this because I’m endlessly fascinated by the places where human expectations collide with human complexity. I’m a woman who carries both fire and softness, instinct and intention, strength and tenderness — and I believe we’re all allowed to be more than one thing. My hope is that this story helps someone feel a little less confused by their own contradictions, and a little more free to live as their whole self. If it also helps men and women understand each other with more curiosity and less assumption, then that’s a win for all of us.