If you’ve read this blog for even a little while you would know that I am a proud liberal and fierce supporter of Hillary Clinton’s presidential campaign so this week sucks. It sucks in a way that I can’t even wrap my head around. As one of the kids at the campus I work at said, “I keep checking news sites for a correction to this. That it really went the other way and any minute they’ll tell us that and it will all be okay.”
If only.
I have moments of anger that border on rage which rather than scaring me makes me think that at least I still care. Mostly, though, I am sad and tired. I have known a lot of Hillarys in my life. The kind who work ten times harder than anybody in the office because that is what women who dare think they can claim a space on the management team in the boy’s club have always had to do.
I also have two daughters and a gay son so my fear of what has been unleashed is real. My inner conversations convincing myself of their safety are now as erratic as the behavior of the person who has been elected. The color of their skin is no comfort but instead a betrayal to every friend without that privilege. I now know (though I would claim I didn’t prior to the election) plenty of women who voted for this man which is as mysterious to me as what happened to Amelia Earhart. This guy this guy is every girl’s bad boyfriend.
He is the guy your friend can’t wait for you to meet and at the end of the night you want to hide her away before it’s too late.
He can make a racist joke as easily as he says “Pass the salt.”
He stands too close and his hand brushes against your breast and you tell yourself your friend’s boyfriend wouldn’t try to cop a feel when she’s in the bathroom. Would he?
He’s got kids from three different women. She knows that, right?
He tells you nobody has more respect for women than him but the way he looks at his daughter creeps you out.
When the subject of faith comes up he drops a quote from Two Corinthians.
He claims climate change is a hoax and asks you if your air is on. In November.
The only people in his circle are varying shades of white.
He frequently talks about the size of his hands as if you’re too stupid to know he’s really talking about the size of something else.
He’s old, overtanned, overweight, and out of shape yet rates women’s bodies on a scale of 1-10.
After a long year you feel whip-sawed by this bad boyfriend that your friend fell for. He’s abusive. He’s ignorant. You’ve never known anyone more vulgar. He takes gaslighting to a level you’ve never seen before. You feel for her but she won’t leave. You decide to take a break for a good long while but before you do you tell her one more thing because you love her and want her back.
Honey, he doesn’t even like you. He never did.