The day I found out I was less than.

This isn’t a business-related post, and you’ll have to forgive me about that this time. I, like so many other women I’ve texted/emailed/spoken with, have had bouts of crying spells the past few days.

Because I feel hated. Because I feel less than…again. As always. Another time a man will look at my husband instead of me to talk about business. Another time someone will address me via email as “dear Sir.” Another time someone will decide they know better than I do about my own body. Another day I find out, yet again, I have no value other than my looks or body.

It’s hard to comprehend what this election has truly meant. I keep hoping that Trump will turn out to be more centrist than he campaigned as. That he’ll pull off this mask and reveal a reasonable person, a person that has daughters, a person that has a small child who will grow up in a world that is full of hatred and climate change a person that…a human being living with other human beings.

But then he taps climate change deniers to the EPA. There’s talks of Sarah Palin receiving a cabinet position. My cousin’s healthcare will be taken away since she’s now past the age of 23 and hasn’t been able to find steady work.

And I cry. Because the country proved that the tolerance we fight for, the hope we have, the work we do for equality, is less than.

Can I say something hopeful? No, not right now. Right now I mourn. I mourn for my rights, for the work Hillary did and what she was to represent, for those women who showed up to pay tribute to Susan B. Anthony on Tuesday in my new hometown.

And I wonder why so many ask “what did Bill Clinton think of all of this?” and why does it matter? I admit I too wondered it while watching Hillary’s concession speech. What was Bill thinking? Who gives a shit? Bill Clinton is not the thing to focus on and is a perfect example of how our society puts the men first. What a strange world we live in.

Yesterday, Comedy Central played this episode of South Park where the women start queefing because they think it’s funny, and the men think it’s disgusting, but the men keep farting because they think that’s funny. And the men end up banning queefing until they realize that they’ve just taken one more thing away from women. So appropo, well done Comedy Central (and Matt and Trey obviously).
While watching it I bawled. Hard. Like I just found out someone died.
It’s hard to find out how truly hated you are.
So here’s my last stand and then I’ll go back to talking about business stuff. But for now, I have a promise to make to you, and I hope you’ll make it, too:

To my LGBT friends.
To my Muslim friends.
To my African American friends.
To my Hispanic friends.

I will fight for you.
I will stand beside you.
I will do anything in my power to protect your rights because I know you will do the same for me and for all women.

In a country so divided, now our communities must come together so we can continue moving forward. Love trumps hate always.

I don’t hate you, I think you’re amazing. And now we’re in this together more than ever.

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