AITA for calling my buddy’s date “cunt” to show why “midget” is a slur?
Dinner was fine until my buddy’s date casually dropped “midget.” I tried to explain why that word hurts—and used a pointed analogy that included calling her “cunt” to make the impact clear.
My buddy brought a date over, and conversation was smooth until she used “midget.” I asked if I could share why little people consider it a slur and gave brief history and context. She rolled her eyes, said people are too sensitive, and cited “midget wrestling” and friends who “don’t mind.” I emphasized that communities get to define what harms them, not outsiders. She brushed it off again, so I used a personal analogy to show how it feels when someone keeps using a word you’ve said is degrading.
I’m a 45F in the U.S., and I tried to explain—in a very direct way—why the word she used is a slur. I wasn’t trying to humiliate her; I wanted her to feel the sting of a word she’d just dismissed so she could understand why people ask others to stop using it.
I’m 45F; my buddy brought a date for dinner, and the issue started when she used “midget.” I calmly offered history and the request from little people to retire the term. She insisted people “make too big a deal” and pointed to entertainment uses and friends who “don’t mind.” To show why intent isn’t the only factor—and that targets set the boundary—I shifted to a personal example using a word many U.S. women find extremely offensive.
“What if I greeted you with, ‘Nice to meet ya, cunt,’ and kept using it after you asked me to stop?”
She recoiled at the word, but still dismissed my point. I extended the analogy: if someone tells you a term is degrading, continuing to use it says more about your respect than your vocabulary. Voices rose, tension spiked, and the visit stalled. I reiterated that communities have asked for decades not to be labeled with a word tied to dehumanizing history and freak-show spectacle.
“A slur is a slur, whether or not we personally feel offended by it.”
They left shortly after. I wasn’t trying to embarrass her; I was trying to translate harm into something she could immediately recognize. I still believe the ask is simple: if a group says a word degrades them, we can respect that and choose different language.
🏠 The Aftermath
The night ended early, and the mood was strained. No big blow-up—just a hard stop and the door closing behind them.
They left together; dinner wrapped; conversation halted midstream. I cleaned up and replayed the moment, wondering if any part landed.
Immediate consequence: an awkward night and uncertainty with my buddy about whether I crossed a line or drew an important one. Longer term fallout is unknown.
Respect isn’t censorship—it’s editing yourself for the sake of someone else’s dignity.
I’m not celebrating the discomfort. I feel conflicted—firm about the principle, but sorry the message hurt more than it helped in the moment.
💭 Emotional Reflection
This wasn’t about politics for me; it was about empathy and boundaries. She felt policed, I felt she was dismissing people who’ve said a word reduces them to a sideshow.
If a term carries a history of dehumanization, then choosing different language costs nothing and communicates care. My analogy was blunt, but it mapped the feeling onto something she instantly found offensive.
Reasonable people may disagree on tone or method. But once harm is explained, the choice to keep using the word—or not—reveals where priorities sit.
Here’s how the room might have reacted if this were on Reddit:
Your analogy worked because she immediately understood the sting—she just didn’t like having it pointed out.
Message was right, delivery was nuclear. Next time, make the point without repeating the slur at her.
Communities define their boundaries; respecting them is basic courtesy. Intent isn’t a hall pass.
Reactions would likely split between “point made” and “too harsh,” with common themes of empathy, language history, and the line between education and escalation.
🌱 Final Thoughts
Words carry baggage, and sometimes people don’t feel the weight until it’s dropped at their feet. I wanted her to understand that if someone says a label hurts, the kind thing is to stop using it.
To her, I was overreacting; to me, I was drawing a boundary. Same table, very different plates.
What do you think?
Would you have left, or stayed and kept trying to make it work? Share your thoughts below 👇
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