Nervous. Excited. Freaking out! I need a positive attitude though – the tallest glass ceiling in America is about to be shattered!
Little girls will know they have a shot at the Presidency of our great country. Women will have more confidence in their importance – demanding equal pay for equal work; adequate, or even superior, health care; reasonable gun laws that protect our citizenry while maintaining our 2nd Amendment rights.
We’ll work on getting the money out of politics and overturning the Citizen’s United Supreme Court decision. We’ll have reasonable and fair judges in our highest court, and we’ll work for social and economic justice.
Those things are being done, but they’ve been inadequate for a large swath of Americans for far too long.
Race relations, policing, public policy, and a higher standard of living will be legislated and not just thrown around as talking points when elections are at stake.
America’s in crisis. We have so many hurt and disenfranchised citizens that need to know they matter, they have a role, they can make a difference.
Hate will not be on the agenda though. Fear gets us nowhere, and anger blocks the love, as my sweet boy of three once told me when I was in the throes of my depression and powerlessness as a single, impoverished mother trying to raise a wholesome child with very little help or hope.
We made it through. I didn’t kill myself, as I was so close to doing for way too many years. I was seeking help too, but I didn’t know, and only one therapist, when I was in my thirties, told me I had PTSD, and it wasn’t until I tried to be in a panic-disorder study that I was turned away for, that I found I also had major depressive disorder, and the researchers felt it was unethical to have me in a trial for a drug that wouldn’t address that. I knew what I had endured throughout my childhood and teen-aged years, but I didn’t know how deeply my abuse had effected me.
All I knew was that I was on welfare, and therefore reviled, living in shame and fear of losing what little I had. My son’s father, hijacked by alcohol, filled with his own anger & shame, lashed out at me – telling me I didn’t deserve to live, that I was stupid, that I’d never be a success.
I’m still healing from all that shame, and worried that I failed my beautiful child – now a man responsible for his choices – who told me he needs me to see his competence and ability: to stop projecting my fear onto him. He didn’t say those words, but that’s what I was doing. He’s still teaching me how to be a better person, how to have more hope and trust – some of the hardest lessons I’ve ever tried to incorporate into my being.
It’s important that he sees me successful, that he sees me rise up out of the mire of my life into the whole person I’ve always had the potential for.
This election has stirred my spirit. A woman, a fighter, a mother and grandmother, will lead us now. She intimately knows what it’s like living in a world that wants women to stay powerless, less than, dependent, and she has risen to the highest office of our nation, and will need the backing of every person who sees that positive power.
How can I ignore that call?
© seekingsearchingmeaning (aka Hermionejh) and Abstractly Distracted’s Blog, 2010 – current