Do not tell me it will be okay

Do not tell me things will be okay. Do not tell me it’s only four years. Do not tell me I will survive.

I know we will heal. At what cost though? Trauma comes when we are given more stress than we can handle. Right now this is more than I can bear. We navigate life with a certain level of predictability. Trump Pence election was not in my realm of predictable possibilities. That signals to my body on a physiological level that things are not safe, things are unpredictable, all bets are off. That’s why trauma is often described as life or death. Because if all bets are off than anything could happen including death. That is what the trauma and terror of this election created.

Do not tell me it’s not that bad. Our president said Mexicans are thugs. I am Mexican. Our president said being with traumatized women is the best because they suck up to men. I am a traumatized woman. Our president is facing rape allegations from more than 10 women including a 13 year old. I am a survivor of sexual assault and I work at a rape crisis center and with sexually exploited minors. Our Vice President thinks people can be shocked back into being heterosexual through conversion therapy. I am bisexual. The senate, the house, and some Supreme Court justices are in his majority. He has promised to deport people who are undocumented. People who I love and care for.

I embody so much of what these people HATE. The president and Vice President and congress and his supporters, which apparently are quite vast in this country, HATE who I am. I fight against EVERYTHING that they stand for as a living. It is my essence. I am a target. I do not feel safe. That is terrifying. I am afraid for my life, my livelihood, my loved ones.

Do not tell me it will be okay. I have so much fear, sorrow, and anger. Nothing about this is okay. I am not afraid of what can happen. I am afraid of what has happened. I am afraid of reality.


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