I find myself using the word ‘hate’ a lot recently. As in “I hate rain.” “I hate geese.” “I hate colonoscopies.” And I’ve experienced them all.
Still, I think I want to tone down the rhetoric, as ‘hate’ is a terrible thing. It’s overwhelming, vile. And not really indicative of my feelings.
I dislike rain intensely. It fuels depression, even though I know it’s good for the flowers and the farmers. I disdain geese because they are dirty, inconsiderate, and arrogant. They chase away ducks, poop everywhere, and peck on our front door, as if I owe them a meal. Would you want neighbors who did that?
Finally, colonoscopies. They’re not pleasant, but they do provide information as to what is going on in one’s insides. When you have a multi-generational history of colon cancer in your family DNA, as I do, it’s wise to swallow one’s distaste of the procedure.
But do I ‘hate’ these things? Not really. What I do hate is racism, sexism, age-ism, and anything that is violent or sadistic. So I’m retiring the word ‘hate’ from my common vocabulary and relegating it to the most heinous acts I hear about. I’m sure there will be no lack of use for the word