This is a message for those who judge me.

When I was a kid, I asked for a counselor who was an older Christian lady who would let me cuss. Because I was angry about a lot. I had so much bottled up inside. Things people had said and done to me. That I couldn’t take it anymore.

What got me into counseling in the first place was my fourth suicide attempt. The only one any adult knew about. When I was fourteen. The other three when I was in middle school.

But even starting to open up and face everything, especially because I still wasn’t safe, was too much. And instead of trying to check out permanently, I turned to cutting myself with razor blades, burning my arms with cigarette lighters, and hitting myself with even hammers. Before I started setting fires.

Which ultimately caused me to get put into a mental hospital. Where their solution was just to try to medicate me into a sedated state and send me right back into the same environment.

It was clear to me then: nobody really wants to get their hands dirty. They just tell me to take a pill and shut up. That’s how we deal with problems in America.

Thank God I’m stubborn for some of the right things.

Because if I was going to get any work done in therapy, I needed to express my anger. And I think you’d all appreciate that I rather cuss now instead of set fires. Right?

Because that was my whole life: bottle it up. Look pretty. Keep your mouth shut and smile. Act like nothing is wrong.

That’s exactly what the problem was in the first place.

And if you care more about calling me out on my words that I use to try to civilly communicate the pains and absolute offenses that have completely shattered me. More than you do about confronting the people who have hurt me. Then you are just like the rest. And I’m not talking to you. My words are for those that need to hear them.

Because it’s absolute bullshit to harp on me for my words while fucking predators and rapists are out there roaming free. Without you holding them accountable. Until you take the initiative to defend me against them, I don’t give a shit if my language offends you. In my book, that means you are part of the problem.

Niceties do nothing. Flattery does nothing. I am constantly living in fear. I am still not safe. And every single last person has left me here. Still on my own.

And then has the audacity to tell me to talk pretty for their comfort.

My Jesus. He walked among those who sold pussy for survival. He tells me that I am clean. He sees my fucking broken heart. He tells me to keep my eyes on Him. He tells me that He Loves me so much. That He accepts me completely. 100%. I’m His girl, His kid. No matter what. No matter if everyone else pushes me away because they don’t want to get involved. Because I’m too much. Or not enough. For the facades they build to try to avoid exactly the same rejection they throw my way.

And that’s enough for me.

My Jesus. He tells me adultery is believing anything about myself that is contrary to how He sees me.

My Jesus. He tells me that cursing is actually saying something that is not true. Lies. Versus what others deem as “cussing”.

For someone to make me feel bad without consulting Jesus on the issue, that’s cursing.

For someone to tell any of His kids anything that would cause them to think He doesn’t absolutely Love them right now even just as they are – that’s cursing.

When I was younger, I had an adult wash my mouth out with soap. I was punished for a week because I said, “That sucks.” By someone who stood at the pulpit. Who led Bible studies. And then I was told that person got caught fucking prostitutes. Which in itself isn’t the problem for me now. Just the hypocrisy.

Get your priorities straight.

If you’re not absolutely fucking losing your damn mind over all the shit, all the injustice that is happening in the world these days, religious organizations included. If the cries of the innocent don’t keep you front and center with Jesus in order to navigate this human experience without absolutely losing your mind and taking matters into your own hands.

And instead you want to chastise me for my language. When all I am trying to do is encourage. And communicate the only Hope any of us have. Instead of numbing out and staying silent like the majority.

Then I’m not talking to you. My words are for those that need to hear them.

You can go hide your head in the sand. As you congregate in your little sanctuaries. Singing songs with no cuss words. But there are real people out here dying in these streets. All day every day. I see it and I live it.

And you’re not going to be able to reach them if you treat them like you treat me. If you continue to major in the minors. If the message you communicate to them is that Jesus cares more about them shutting up and looking “pretty”. Than He cares about them knowing how much He Loves them even when you don’t like the words they use as they best communicate the absolute hell they’ve been put through by those that have failed them.

God Loves all the hell and shit out of me.

And just for the record, I tried to tell y’all the nice way. But nobody listened enough. Nobody cared enough. So it is exactly all of you who drove me to this point. You have your silence and inaction to thank.

This is who I used to be. Who I would still love to be. If I wasn’t left to fighting on my own every damn day of my life.