Replace it with love

This has been a tough week.

I mean, the day to day stuff has been pretty normal. But the news. The Kavanaugh confirmation. It’s been a huge blow, to say the least.

I’m finding it hard not to remain cynical and bitter and very, very angry. Rageful. This is the world we live in now?! Women aren’t believed. Too many men care about nothing other than keeping the power and privilege that were handed to them at birth. Women live in fear – a fear so ingrained that many of us hardly notice the daily steps we take to prevent becoming victims of violence again. Lies are ignored. Justice is buried. The truth is twisted.

I can’t accept that.

I worry deeply about the damage this corrupt presidential administration has done and will do to international relations, the environment, the economy, our democracy, my husband’s job stability, my daughter’s human rights, the example set for my son.

I feel so powerless. I’m busy, I’m tired, I’m overwhelmed. I vote, but even that didn’t matter. I share things on social media…to my friends…who usually feel similarly anyway.

As a country, we seem to have crossed a line where decency doesn’t matter, human rights don’t matter, democracy doesn’t matter. I worry that there’s no coming back from this. I worry that some sort of pandora’s box filled with the darkest timeline of human evils has been opened and can’t ever be fully closed.

I know there are decent, good, loving, rational, respectful citizens out there. The majority, actually. But that doesn’t matter if evil keeps being handed more power.

I’m not even sure what I am trying to say here. I’m trying to find hope, moving forward. I’m trying to focus my rage – but on what? I plan to vote in November. And to march in January (Third annual Women’s March is 1/19/19). Is that enough? It sure doesn’t feel like it.

And one more thing.

Today, I played hide and seek with my kids. Well, it was kindof a mish-mash of hide and seek and tag with added screaming. It was really fun, and my kids were delighted. We laughed and hugged and chased and tickled. I stopped when they said stop. I reminded them about personal space boundaries. Because, you see, my kids are already learning about consent, respecting others, personal boundaries, honesty, and love.

I hope they grow up to vote. And march, if needed. But most of all, they are going to grow up and be kind. Respectful. Decent. Loving.

Together, let’s burn the fucking patriarchy to the ground.

And replace it with love.

 


Tell me: how do you plan to fight back??

There aren’t enough cinnamon rolls in the world

This is an exciting time, in a way. Exciting and disheartening to say the least.

(I have mixed feelings about trigger warnings, but nevertheless, here’s one for talk of all the sexual assault allegations in the media currently going on.)

So many survivors of sexual violence are coming forward to place blame, rightfully and publicly, squarely on the alleged perpetrators in Hollywood, in television, and in politics. I even hesitate to say “alleged” in that last sentence because people rarely lie about being victims of sexual assault. In my profession and my experience, I believe a survivor. Always.

I am so proud of all those survivors who have come forward, even when their perpetrator is famous, powerful, a dickhead, or all three. I know there are several times more survivors out there who haven’t spoken out, and those who have come forward give all the others strength and hope.

I feel a shift happening. Hopefully this is another wave of human beings rising up and making it normal to say, “Hey! You can’t treat people this way. We see you and your actions and you will be held accountable.”

I’ve watched the news as day after day, more allegations have come out and people are screaming for Roy Moore to drop out of his race. House of Cards was effectively canceled. Louis C.K.’s movie was shelved.

I watched an episode of Megyn Kelly’s new Today Show where she put up pictures of man after man accused of sexual assault and listed off what each asshole had been accused of doing. For once, the focus was on the perpetrators and not the victims. I felt a weird combination of….elation, hope, and disgust.

Elation – YES! We are holding perpetrators publicly to the fire and screaming that this behavior is despicable in a way that I’ve never seen before.

Hope – Maybe momentum will build. Maybe this is the beginning of something bigger. Maybe lasting change will happen.

Disgust – For there to be so many, SO MANY survivors, there are tons of perpetrators out there. I admit, I’ve had feelings of deep disappointment to find out that people whose work I enjoy and admire have been accused of sexual assault. This SUCKS. Why do so many men think this is ok and think they can get away with it?! (#patriarchy)

Tonight, I was eating some leftover cinnamon roll when I learned about allegations against Louis C.K. I was shocked, disgusted, and disappointed. At a loss, I started shoving more cinnamon roll into my mouth. It seemed like the right thing to do.

My husband and I joked that there aren’t enough cinnamon rolls in the world because all this feels like too much.

Maybe one day we’ll have more than enough cinnamon rolls because people will remember to stop sexually assaulting other people and then lie about it. That sentence made sense in my head, but I think you get my drift.


NaBloPoMo Day 13