Protesting Trump As A Survivor Of Abuse
For the past few months, I have been anxious around nearly every man I encounter.
I am as scared of a young boy walking behind me at dusk as I am of large crowds of strangers. I jump every time I hear footsteps behind me on the sidewalk. I hold my keys like a weapon whenever I go somewhere alone. Every evening after work, I sit on the metro and think, Which of these men wants to rape me? Which of them actually would?
I’ve been afraid since November, since America elected a man who treats women as playthings, who believes our worth is directly tied to our physical appearance, who engages in relentless misogynistic name-calling and attacks. Whose policies already threaten the lives of thousands of women, trans, and non-binary people around the world.
The truth is, I have been living in fear of men since I was a child. Growing up, my father was often physically and emotionally abusive; he is a bully who often resorts to violence when he doesn’t get his way. Then there is my ex-boyfriend who threw his phone at my head when I confronted him about his infidelity, and tossed me around his bedroom one night when I didn’t want to have sex.
I have worked for most of my life to overcome the pain these men caused me, and just as I began to move forward, another one comes along and becomes leader of the free…
