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I was confronted a while back by a friend of a friend who became very upset when I used the term ‘pussy-whipped’ in her presence. She didn’t like the word ‘pussy’ and asked me not to use it any more.

I was rather offended by the suggestion – because a pussy is a lovely, friendly, furry little thing that I want to pat, while vagina is a wholly horrific word that evokes a small, pinkish monster that bites.

She didn’t like the word vagina either (particularly after I gave it some teeth), so vag-whipped was out too. Two words down, I became hesitant to suggest any others, because my vocabulary was beginning to feel hobbled and lame.

She suggested ‘flower’ and I reluctantly agreed. I resumed the story about my mate who was flower-whipped, and had to build an image of which kind of flower was doing the whipping. A dandelion lacked impact, and there was still a well-dressed big cat in the word. A bird of paradise was too extreme. As we sat around and suggested different flowers to do the flower whipping, and there were jokes about deflowering, and she became uncomfortable with the new framing that flower had taken.

Much the same thing has happened with the word ‘gay’ – which was re-framed by a  man who wished to replace the word ‘queer’ by something less obviously connoted with disorder. Now, children in schools describe difficult assignments or unfair handball rulings as ‘gay’; ‘queer’ has become a quaint, affectionate term that old gay men use: ‘Don’t mind me, I’m just an old queer’

So what are we to do? Are we really expected to continually update our vocabulary every time some vocal bunch of whingers whines about feeling stigmatized? If we do that, where will it end? Words are disappearing from our vocabulary – we can’t say queer, gay or faggot any more, not even in their original usage, because now they seem to say more about the speaker than that which they describe.

A faggot is a bunch of sticks, not a guy who likes them. Gay is how he feels when he’s near a stick, and queer is how he feels when he’s pretending to be straight.

I wouldn’t mind so much if we were inventing words at the same pace, but all our new words seem to be obfuscating acronyms, product names or misspellings of old words. Regardless, inventing more words only gives more ammunition that can be shot into the bleeding hearts of the world.

It’s going the wrong way. We should be encouraging resilience, not cow-towing to sensitivity.

Black men in America aren’t nearly as offended by the word ‘nigger’ as whites are. Aussie Aboriginals don’t much mind ‘coon’ or ‘abo’ – but their obsessive protectors do. And why? Abo is just a shortening, it carries no baggage of oppression…

The offense lives in your head, and that is racist and rude. When you protect someone from words, it is you that is implying that they are powerless, defenceless, pathetic and needy.

I let people call me anything they want, because being unoffendable feels powerful. I don’t behave like I’m needy, and nobody jumps to my rescue when people insult me.

In fact, my manner is such that strangers begin to insult me within moments of meeting me. They make jokes at my expense and I laugh loudly, which invites others to do the same. It feels good – it makes me feel grounded and real.

So if you want someone to feel empowered, capable and independent, treat them as if they already are. Don’t protect them from the truth. Don’t shield them from words, don’t hush and coddle them with your imperious arrogance. Challenge them and they will find that they already have the ability to cope with it.

Let them laugh, let them change, and don’t be a such a flower.