Photo courtesy of the Orlando Sentinel
*Warning, you might not like some of the language you’re about to read…at the ripe old age of 68, I don’t really give a fuck. (Sorry, kids, mom’s gone off the deep end.)
OK, the pity party’s over. After waking up Wednesday in tears and not being able to stop them for the rest of the day, I think I’m back in control. Of course, I have bridges to mend after snapping at my 92 year old mother…isn’t it amazing how we never get over our mom’s criticism? All she did was call yesterday to wish me a Happy Birthday (for fuck’s sake, it was my birthday!) and when she found out I had blown off a birthday lunch with my besties, she said I was being ridiculous. Well, that set me off again and I nearly gave myself a stroke.
You see, we are a non-confrontational family and every couple of years when an election rolls around we all have to bite our tongues and ignore the elephant or donkey in the room. That being said, I love my family members unconditionally…it’s just that our brains don’t think the same way and we have to stifle our words or all hell will break loose. So, yesterday I couldn’t stifle it. I knew I couldn’t fake a smile and break bread with friends on my birthday, who could not commiserate with me as their agenda was not the same.
Now it’s Thursday and it’s a beautiful day, the sun’s out, the duck’s are still in the lake, I didn’t get shot, yelled at or beaten up on my walk…life is good for this straight, white woman living in a nice neighborhood. Control is back…the headache isn’t gone yet, though…that mind fog might be around for a while. And now I’ve made another “ridiculous” decision, to attend Orlando’s Pride Parade this Saturday, instead of the beach wedding I had originally signed up for. (The bride’s mom is cool with the decision.)
Instead, I’m following my conscience and heart to support a group of people who had high stakes in this election. Their fears are real and they’ve already seen the consequences of allowing the general public to speak and act like their President-elect. Now that the evil term, “political-correctness,” is out the window, we can yell out anything we want…”Hey, Melania, show us your tits!” (I really am OK, kids, just following our new President’s example.)
In the words of Natalie Maines, “I’m Not Ready to Make Nice.” I’ll keep it in check with family and friends but don’t expect me to remain silent when rights are being stripped from women, gays, people worshiping religions other than Christianity…not to mention my right to be an Atheist without being treated like I have leprosy. You might call it sour grapes, I call it compassion.
THAT is the loss I spent all day crying over. You can say I’m being ridiculous, I prefer to hold on to the freedom to be me, and I’m going to hang on to it as long as I can.
