A Blog Post That I Actually Really Want You To Read

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I’ve had a lot of crappy nights in my past. Most fueled by alcohol, but some were just shitty to their core. Last night was in my top 10, maybe even top 5 worst nights to date. A terrible, horrible man became president, and I was pretty shocked about it.

I got up at 6:30 AM and went to the polls to vote for the first lady president and couldn’t have been more excited.  I was fucking amped to put a female in the White House. I thought about the glass ceiling we were shattering; I thought about all the women in my life that I love and respect so much, and how major this was for us.

Later, all that got taken away from me. And I did something kind of strange, for me.

I sat on my couch in front of the results and I cried. I cried for my beautiful, intelligent, wonderful Latina friend who believes her family will be deported now. I cried for the incredible friends I have in the LGBTQ community. I cried for my uncle in a wheelchair. I cried for every person of color. I cried for myself. Not just me, the female, but the girl who was bullied for years on end, and ate lunch alone. The girl who was told she was ugly and stupid. When you see a bully win, all of those terrible, gut-wrenching feelings of hurt come rushing back, and it’s fucking terrifying.

I cowered. I went to bed and hid. I talked about (and posted about) leaving this country. To me, this was the big “fuck you” to those bullies, those racists, the men who made disgusting comments about my body, the homophobic jerks, the people who talked shit about me for having an abortion. I would just leave them all behind.

Then a few hours with the knowledge of President Trump turned into 4, then 5, then 10, and so on. And it still fucking sucks. And I’m still so fucking angry. But I am better than the girl on the couch crying.

I have made people laugh, feel good, and feel safe with this stupid little blog. I have done something. I am not a person who does nothing. If I ever have daughters, they will be strong, amazing, articulate women, and they will not do nothing. They will not be okay with doing nothing.

Of course I still want to leave the country. I want to run away from this shit. Of course I’m still afraid. I’m fucking pissed. But I am not the woman I have built myself to be for 26 years if I just sit behind a computer and talk shit. So please, everyone, with all that is left in your big, beautiful, worthy, kind hearts: let’s figure out a way to take our bravery back.

Let’s host charity events, lets donate anything and sign everything we can. Let’s walk out, let’s protest. Let’s shine brighter. Let’s be the baddest fucking bitches in the game. If I do have a daughter- or a son, fuck it- I can show them this, my words, the kind things I’ve done, and I can feel okay with that. I can’t be ok with tears.

How can I sit here and say we can be ANYTHING and then hide away? We can be fucking anything.  We can do ANYTHING. Please, please, share charities, causes, events, petitions, and anything you can think of that will bring us together. We can make our own. I am more than happy to donate my time, my money, my belongings to prove that this scum bag is not my voice, and this country that we call home is not based on hate.

I’m not a cry baby. I’m a nasty woman and I’m ready to start shit. Let’s do this.

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