I had such a different post planned for today. I was going to talk about that picture, the one of me in 6th grade wearing a pantsuit. And I was going to say that the dreams I had at 12 years old, the dream of equal pay and equal opportunities in the workplace, of the right to control my body, the dream of giving a presentation without being talk over by a man, the dream of thinking that I could be anything I wanted to be, including president some day, I thought today I would be saying that all of those dreams were finally in reach. I thought I would be celebrating that pantsuit and those big big dreams. I thought I would be saying that America finally viewed women as equal.
But I’m not.
Instead, I’m waking up feeling sad and confused and betrayed. I’ll be perfectly frank and tell you that I cried a lot last night. I cried as I hugged my daughter and apologized to her that we didn’t get it right this time. As I realized in my heart that women are still not equal and are held to much different scrutiny than men. I cried myself to sleep thinking about all those women putting their I VOTED stickers on Susan B. Anthony’s grave stone yesterday. And I’ve shed some tears this morning, too.
I know that we have a system of checks and balances. I know that I should look at this as an opportunity to talk about the hatred and divisiveness within our country. I know that it’s my responsibility to speak out against misogyny and lies but right now? Right now I’m shocked and sad and tired.
My daughter told me last night that none of this is my fault. She told me that I set a great example as a feminist and that I raised her to be a strong feminist and that some day we will see a woman as president of our country. And, while I love her enthusiasm and optimism, I still feel like I have let her down, just as this country has let me down and shown me, once again, that because I have breasts and a vagina, I’m just not worthy of the really important stuff.
You all know that I rarely (if ever) get political on this blog. It’s just not my thing to do here and I don’t enjoy doing it now but I think you also know that I process my feelings through writing and right now I’m having some very big feelings that need to be processed. I know that some of you reading this disagree with me – obviously – since the majority of this country voted differently than I did. I will just say that I ask you to respect my feelings, to respect the sadness I feel, and to leave any negative comments you may have to yourselves. I just can’t handle them today.
Instead, take a look again at the picture of me at 12. And remember the dreams we all had at that age. And reflect on how we can make those dreams come true for the 12 year old girls of today.
