Dear Mr. Trump

This letter was posted on Facebook by Anabelle Pinto -San Francisco CA

I thought it was worth sharing!

Dear Mr. Trump… can I call you Mr. Trump? Is that ok? I want you to be happy, that’s very important to me.

Before I get started, let me say this letter isn’t from all women. The Trumpettes surely won’t approve of this message. But this is from most women.

We see right through you. We have all known you at some point. Your ways are not unfamiliar to us. We see through you because we’ve been dealing with you our whole lives.

We heard you call women pigs. And disgusting. And stupid. And bimbos.

We watched as you called a former Ms. Universe “Ms. Piggy” and then spent four days continuing to insult her.

We see your weakness. Your lust for attention at any cost, your need to denigrate women. We see all of it. And we’re mad.

Yes. We’re mad. And fired up. And here’s the thing about us… we can be bitches.

Gone are the days where we question our power or our influence. We are strong. Smart. We know our worth and it doesn’t reside in the size of our bras or our skinny jeans. We build each other up. We have our sister’s backs. And our brother’s. So when you took on the former Ms. Universe, you took on all of us.
And right now you’ve got a lot of angry women to contend with. And let me remind you, Mr. Trump… hell hath no fury like a pissed off woman who’s tired of this sexist bullshit.
We heard you when you said we should “look for another place to work” if we experience workplace sexual harassment. Your non-solution illustrates either your lack of understanding or lack of concern. Or both. Your attitude and ignorance on this is stunning. Your response, pathetic. We see you, and we see someone who’s in over their head.
We watched you interrupt a woman 51 times during a 90 minute debate. While the better qualified, more knowledgeable woman was talking, you attempted to bulldoze right over her. We all know this game. It’s called male privilege. And it doesn’t look good on you, Mr. Trump. It makes you look weak. We see you, and we see a man who is so threatened by a woman speaking that you can’t even bear to let her finish. Sad.
And we see it rampant throughout your campaign and your proposed policies. It’s in your paltry maternity leave proposal that leaves out fathers and LGBTQ and adoptive parents. And when you say that women who seek abortions should be punished. And when you refuse to consider supporting equal pay for women.
Your latest ad, in which your daughter, beaming with privilege and pride, says “being a mother is the most important job a woman can have.” didn’t go over so well with us, Mr. Trump.
We are different, us women. We are not a homogenous army of fem-bots. We have different interests, goals and lives. There is more to us than motherhood. Some of us revel in motherhood. Some of us don’t want to have children. And some of us can’t have children. Our status as mothers has nothing to do with our worth. This ad, coupled with your policies show that you are tone deaf to the reality that women face and point to an antiquated attitude. One that keeps women as the caregivers and leaves men out of that equation.
We see you. And we see a man who has no business representing our interests in the Oval Office.
We heard you say no one would vote for Carly Fiorina “because of her face.”
We remember you calling women “a beautiful piece of ass” in Esquire Magazine.
We watch you say one thing, then say the opposite. Then refuse to admit any of it happened. Problem is, we can spot gas lighting from a mile away.
We recall the bit about all women being gold diggers in your memoir.
We cringe and hold our daughters a little closer when we are reminded that you said you’d date your daughter. If only she weren’t your daughter.
We remember when you called a lawyer “disgusting” for requesting a break during a trial to breastfeed.
We roll our eyes when we saw you try to dismiss Megyn Kelly after she had the nerve to ask you questions. At a debate. “Blood coming out of her wherever” was not lost on us. Most of us remember hearing such comments in Middle School.
We are horrified when we learn that you sent a journalist a picture of herself with the word “Dog” scrawled across it.
We seethe with anger when we read your tweet blaming military sexual assault on the fact that women are in the military.
We haven’t forgotten your lurid tweet about Hillary Clinton not being able to “satisfy” her husband.
Not only do you not understand women, you seem to have an awful lot of contempt for them. This is not fitting for a man who wants to be President in the 21st Century.
Which leads me to this:
Make America Great Again.
We know exactly what you meant when you branded yourself with this slogan. It’s not-so-coded language for a time gone by. Your “great” America wasn’t so great for women and minorities and gay people.
We won’t go back.
We won’t be relegated to the kitchen.
We won’t be locked into a life where we have no choice over our bodies or whether we have babies.
We won’t accept your patronizing response to sexual harassment.
We won’t be silenced or demeaned any more.
We won’t be ridiculed for our weight or judged by our appearance.
We won’t be shamed for owning our sexuality.
We have come a long way since your days of when America was “great.”
We have busted our asses to get here and we’re not going back.
We are raising strong daughters who fight back against sexist school dress codes.
We are raising strong sons who aren’t afraid of their feelings and aren’t afraid of strong girls.
We are shutting down catcalling.
We are no longer letting ourselves be interrupted and drowned out in the board room.
We are locking arms with our sisters in solidarity when rapists are given a slap on the wrist.
We are shouting about every day sexism.
We are calling you out, Mr. Trump.
We will not go quietly into any good night. We are loud. We are in your face. And we don’t put up with the kind of bullshit you’re selling.

So maybe this isn’t your time, Mr. Trump. Maybe your time has passed.

Maybe you would have been more suited to the early 1900’s when women did not yet have the right to vote.

When marital rape was still legal.

Or the 1950’s when women largely stayed home and produced children and McCarthyism and blacklisting were acceptable.

Or perhaps 1930’s Germany would have been a better fit for you.

But now? Now is not your time.

We’re moving forward. All of us, smart men and women, have had enough of the tired gender roles. We’ve had enough of you and other weak, fearful men trying to stop progress.

We see you, Mr. Trump.

We see your sexism and your bigotry and your racism. We see right through you.

Remember. We can be bitches.

And bitches get shit done.

Bitches Vote.

See you on November 8, Mr. Trump.


Love Is The Answer 7-8-16

I haven’t wanted to say much the past month or so or even share my opinions.  After the incident in Dallas I feel the need to share.  I am very saddened by the recent events involving the death of an innocent man because of the color of his skin.  I am also saddened by the events that happened in Dallas.  This past month or so has certainly been filled with so much sadness.  As I reflect on the latest events, I can’t help but be reminded of the innocent lives lost in Orlando only a few weeks ago. These are reminders of how much hate still lives in America.

I watched the video on Facebook of that young man shot by a police officer.  His girlfriend was praying saying “God…Please don’t let my boyfriend die” over and over again.  It broke my heart to hear her.  I couldn’t help but cry.  I can’t even imagine the fear she was experiencing. I believe she was praying to the same God I pray to…..And I’m Catholic by the way.  My God isn’t black and he isn’t white.  My God shines so bright I can’t see the color of his skin.  All I see is a beautiful light that radiates peace and love.  It’s amazing to me how we Americans still judge others based on the color of their skin or their choice in partners.  We are all guilty of doing this.  Who in the heck are we to judge.  If you ask me, I have so many problems in my life that judging others isn’t an additional  task I’d like to take on.  I’ll leave the “judging” part to the “Big Guy” in heaven.

People from all over the world come to America.  They come here to escape communism, brutality, poverty.  They see America as the American Dream.  I wonder what they think when they get here and they have to hide out in their room because they don’t fit the American mold. They have to worry about going out in public and be fearful they may get shot or shunned by those who think their shit doesn’t stink.   I wonder if they feel like the “American Dream” is actually a nightmare.  We have all these politicians professing their promises to change america.  Donald Trump, our newest candidate,  is going to make America great.  Really Donald?  Building a wall dividing the United States and Mexico is not the answer.  In my opinion, it only opens the door to more bigotry.

I have friends who are black.  I have friends who are Latino’s, Asians, Brazilians,  Italians, Irish and I even have friends who are gay.  When I look at them I don’t see the color of their skin or their choice in partners.  What I see are beautiful people who are beautiful inside and out and make me proud to call them my friends!!  They are my BFF’s.  Best Friends Forever.  I’m a Latin Catholic woman.  I’m also a recovered alcoholic, a recovered Anorexic/Bulemic, I’ve survived cancer, abusive relationships, I’m a little rough around the edges, some might call me ghetto but I like who I am.  I am unique.  When God created me he threw away the mold.  We are all unique.  That’s what makes us all special.  Robert Palmer used to sing a song called “Every Kind of People”.  It’s an awesome song.  The lyrics are “It takes every kind of people to make the world go round”.  I think those lyrics are spot on.

When I was growing up there used to be a famous woman named Dinah Shore.  She was a very popular singer and TV host.  I will never forget Dinah and her husband had a baby.  The baby was born black.  The ironic part is neither Dinah nor her husband were black.  They were white.  Dinah’s husband accused her of cheating.  An accusation she vehemently denied.  What a fiasco that was.  It was later discovered through genetic testing that Dinah had  “black” blood lines running through her veins.  I have always loved this story and this is why.  Be careful who you judge….You never know where you came from.  If you don’t believe me, feel free to google it.  Now I’d like to clarify, referring to African Americans as black is not politically correct.  I know that.  But based on the recent events, let’s cut to the chase.  We still judge African Americans because we still view them as “black”.  Just like we judge mexicans, gay people, asians, whites……the list goes on.  It’s just wrong.  Black or white, these are people just like you and me.

I heard a song this morning.  It’s an old song by the group called England Dan and John Ford Coley.  For those of you who are my age (25 x 2) you may recall the song.  It’s called “Love is the Answer”.  We are looking for a way to end all of this violence.  At the end of the day the answer lies within ourselves to have the ability to love one another.  Regardless of race, color etc.  Love is the answer my friends.  Love is what will set us all free.  Someday we all must die.  That’s when we will face the true judge for our behavior while living.  I don’t know about you but I have many things I will have to answer to but I can tell you it won’t be because I spent my life judging others based on the color of their skin.  You see, God loves us all.  He may not agree with the way we choose to live our life but I can tell you he doesn’t love us based on the color of our skin.  He loves us unconditionally.  Why wouldn’t he?  He created us all.  That means he created the color of our skin too.  Of course, this is my opinion.  I live in America!  I am free to have my own opinion just like you’re free to have your own. I will leave you with this to reflect upon. Jesus was born in Nazareth.  It’s my guess he didn’t have fair skin, blonde hair or blue eyes. As a Christian, would  you judge Jesus by the color of his skin?  Ponder that.