Forward

Before I’m ready to move forward, there’s something I need to say.

I don’t think anyone can truly understand what it’s been like to be a mother of young children over the past four years, unless you’ve lived it yourself. As a survivor of sexual assault, watching in horror as Trump was elected after bragging about sexual violence against women, was a cruel kind of torture. The reflection of his vote into office revealed too many Americans were complicit in his venomous hatred of people of color, women, immigrants, and members of the LBGTQIA+ community.

Shockingly, his comment about “grabbing women by the…” were only the very beginning of his treachery. Refusing to listen to doctors and scientists or actually leading our nation through the deadliest pandemic, has left this country reeling in tragedy. 

Trump delighted in the dissolution of our union; intentionally pitting sides against each other. He dehumanized minorities, immigrants, or any individual who refused to buy into his unrelenting bullshit. He ended his reign of terror by inciting violence and encouraging the insurrection at the Capitol. This was the ultimate betrayal to finalize a toxic, horrific time in our nation’s history. 

Trump pulled us so far apart, the “United” States felt like an idealistic idea of the past. 

The challenge of attempting to raise children during these 4 years has been witnessing grown men and women failing to act with morality. Children are looking to adults to provide: guidelines, boundaries, to be models of appropriate behavior. Our youth has witnessed more horror during these years, than I have during my 36-years on Earth. 

I need to write these words, because I need to state for the record that I disagree with absolutely everything Trump stood for. As a white woman of privilege, with family across the globe, it feels important to say that aloud. It seems superfluous to say that I believe racism, sexism, homophobia, xenophobia are wrong, but silent complicity got us here in the first place. 

I needed to write this.

And now, I need to let it go.

Not forgive and forget, that’s something else entirely, but I’m ready to heal. See, I don’t have the luxury of resentment or holding onto anger even if it’s justified—that’s the number one killer of alcoholics like me. I’ve been so tempted to retreat into darkness during this miserable time of suffering; but I’m determined to show my daughters the very nature of resilience. What it means to endure. As Glennon Doyle says, show them, “We can do hard things.”

Amanda Gorman the 22-year-old African-American Poet Laureate, made history as she recited her poem “The Hill We Climb” during this morning’s inauguration. I felt honored to hear her gift—the written word has always been my solution. Her message is as unifying as it is healing. Her poem didn’t tiptoe around the pain of our history, instead she bravely looked it right in the eyes; afterall, we must learn from our past or we are bound to repeat it.

 “Somehow we’ve weathered and witnessed a nation that isn’t broken, but simply unfinished”.

The magic continued with a magnificent display of fortitude that took place when Senator Kamala Harris was sworn in as Madame Vice President. She represents the first of something that’s never been, at a time when Americans so desperately need to be reminded that endless potential for growth still exists within us.

What a beautiful display of progress. 

Now begins the rebuild: the rebuilding of our humanity.

It is difficult to begin to express my relief to have a President and Vice President in office who are capable of: integrity, honesty, and kindness. It feels like a long, slow exhale that’s been packed away in my lungs for almost half a decade. This morning I was finally able to tell my daughters, “Yes, goodness will always prevail.”

There is so much hope on the horizon.

Here’s to looking forward.