So, today I had two people unfriend me over my defense of Melania Trump (don't worry, I still can't stand her husband.) One whom I had hardly exchanged two words with in all of my time here in Facelandia and the other that I had considered a friend, albeit not someone I had met in person. Still, I considered him a friend and even though we disagreed over politics and conspiracy theories (his, not mine), I did think he was a tad more enlightened than he seems to be. I did also think that people who refer to themselves as 'friends' should be able to disagree without the drama involved here. Oh dear. If I had pearls, I might consider clutching them.
Apparently, posting some memes about my day, some of which had to do with work (you know, how I make my fucking living?) and some of which had to do with the other conversation with the idiot woman, one which was funny (and had to do with my lunch in a round about way), and one which stated exactly how I fucking felt (yes, Jack) was too much for this person who I had thought to be a friend. Guess what, Bunny? It isn't all about YOU. Other things happened to me today than just arguing with you over whether or not Melania is a gold-digging whore. For the record, I don't think she is. I would bet the fortune I don't have that she is terrified of him. She did not ask for this and she is part of the reason why women marched Saturday.
But, you know what? Even if she did marry him for money, so what? Do you honestly think that you have the right call her a whore because you once 'helped out' at a women's shelter? Fuck you and your white male privilege. YOU, in your pretend knight's garb, are why women don't feel safe. Men that refer to themselves as 'Daddy' (check half your fucking pictures) are why women make excuses to leave early and take off. You have been through how many women since I've known you? You've talked intimately about everyone one of them on your wall, which they all read. Really?
You think because you knocked a few heads back in the day that you can treat women like shit now? You say you stopped helping because 'every one of those women went back to the guy.' Well, duh. That's why they call it Battered Women's Syndrome. We go back. Usually twice, sometimes eight times or more before we get the strength to leave. Some women take thirty years to leave (shout out to a few of my clients who made it out after that long). If you gave up because you think your one pep talk was enough and it turned out not to be, then you are part of the problem. You are actively dismissing victims who need help. Is it as difficult as alcohol addiction? Drug addiction? Maybe moreso. Because this is someone that IS good to you sometimes. Someone you might have children with. Someone you probably still love.
This is how I spent my day in law:
"I would estimate that during the course of our relationship and marriage he has hit me, pushed me, kicked me, or struck me in some way more than thirty times. At one point, XXXXXXX beat me and took my phone. When the police finally arrived, he told them that I had gone to a club the night before and gotten a ‘beat down’. The police believed him and left."
Why do people stay? Because the abused has been conditioned to think 'maybe this time s/he is really sorry’, ‘because s/he didn't mean it’, ‘because I'll change’, ‘because I'll love them more’, ‘because s/he will stop because I left and they begged me to come back’. Every one of those statements and more. And all the becauses never come to fruition since the abuser isn't going to stop. That's their pattern of behaviour with the victim. That IS their relationship with the victim. They don't know how to stop anymore than the victim knows how to leave. And if you had learned anything at that women's shelter, you'd know this.
I saved both of our conversations from today so that I can look back and remember why I fight, why I stand up, and why I can't just sit down. Thank you for showing me who you really are today. And since you kept trying to make this all about political labels when I don’t wear one, I'm sorry you don't live up to the ingredients you had printed on yours.