I am sure this post will join the millions of other things people have to say about this recent inauguration. The prospect of joining such a mass terrifies me — I am not really one for voicing these kind of things publicly. Still, the idea that I only have two followers on a niche and secluded corner of the internet comforts me. And it is nice to air out what I’ve been feeling about all this.
I see how people have responded. Some, in anger (justifiable), posting and re-tweeting as many facts, speeches, opinions on social media. I think that’s fine. I feel like I have a rock in my mouth. Often times I am scrolling through feeds silent with a dull look on my face. I don’t know how to describe it. I am just shell-shocked.
Though I admire the sheer outrage that has been expressed, I think the silent grieving that some people are more comfortable with has been put on the back burner. [Disclaimer: do not read silent as complacent.] I am traumatized. As a woman, a person of color, a millennial, a child of foreign immigrants, educated person, human — I am horrified. As much as I would simply like to make a statement with an eloquent display of biting words on my Facebook, I am still reeling from the blow to my face. As a child of emotional and physical trauma, every part of my body has been reawakened to remember that first touch of pain. The fact that a man who speaks like that has now been elected to rule over my body does something deeper than offend me. It absolutely shakes at the root of my insecurities. Suddenly, every thing I had once fought to dismantle has suddenly been validated. That time I looked at myself in the mirror and hated the reflection of a non-western face. That time I felt cheaply eroticized and denigrated to a sexualized symbol by a man on the subway who “grabbed me by the p***y” when I was fourteen. That time I truly believed because of our socio-economic status and class, my family deserved less than other “Americans.” Sometimes I think, if left unattended, I could be found sitting in my room with my mouth open, drool hanging down my chin.
I have written and rewritten and then erased so many potential posts on Facebook. I am thinking of the best way that I can revolt and resist. Change comes in big ways but it also comes in little ones too. I want to commit to loving people well now. The people in my lives, the people of different faces. I want to commit to holding them on, through, and along. I want to be kind, gracious and giving. This is the softness I would like to see in others and am hoping I will one day see in myself. This is all I can say for now.