Thoughts

I’m Finally with Her.

Like most voters out there, for me this election has been one of the most interesting to date. It has been like watching reality TV, with all of the drama and none of the fun. We’ve been embroiled in controversies and left with two candidates that have the country wrought with contention.

As a passionate Bernie Sanders supporter, I have been reluctant to fully yield my vote to Hillary. Obviously I’m with her over Trump, but my support has been dispassionate at best. I’ve been looking at this election as the choice between the lesser of two evils.

I was never anti-Hillary, per say. I felt (and still do) that she was too cozy with Wall Street and I worried that she was influenced by corporate donations. I appreciated all the work she had done through her decades-spanning career, but she wasn’t the “change” that I was really looking for in a candidate.

I liked that she was a woman, in theory, but that just didn’t seem like a good enough reason to vote for someone.

My general meh-ness towards Hillary may be due in part to the fact that I was lucky enough to grow up in a family, and in a nation, where my gender has never really been an issue in my daily life. I have always been encouraged to do anything. Nay, everything. My dad had two girls; we played every sport, learned to change car oil and rotate tires. My strong-willed mother taught me that there was nothing I couldn’t do, and instilled in me the confidence to strive for any greatness that I so desired.

Maybe I take this for granted. Maybe at 30, my path has been so smoothly paved by the women before me, that I don’t fully comprehend the majesty that women older than myself feel when they look at Hillary.

But all that changed in a moment, when I was immersed in real life stories from women spanning the continent.

My first spark of passion occurred after I was invited to join “Pantsuit Nation” on Facebook. The group is a huge gathering of mostly women, and their posts took my breath away. (If you want an invite to the group, message me on Facebook and I’ll get you set up ASAP.) Women all over the country are sharing their voting history, their triumphs, and their unbridled joy at getting to cast their vote for a female candidate.

Mothers are posting photos of their daughters at the polls, working the phones, posing alongside “I’m with her” paraphernalia.

Immigrants are expressing their hard-won satisfaction of having their vote cast in a country where it actually counts.

Democrats in red states tell of losing friends over their political affiliation.

Women are remembering a time when their vote was not equal; when having a vagina somehow made your opinion less than.

I was quickly reminded what a lucky shit I am to have grown up in a time where I take my right to vote for granted.

Scrolling through post after post, my chest began to feel tight. Tears welled up in the corners of my eyes and I realized that for the first time I actually felt a connection with Hillary. Instead of a disassociated, second choice candidate, I began to catch a glimpse of what others had been seeing for some time– a powerful, take-nothing-from-nobody, pantsuit wearing, proud of her lady-parts candidate, who had spent her lifetime striving for children, for access to healthcare, and for women near and far.

I am still amazed at how much my attitude has changed almost instantly.

I feel such a sense of pride. I feel proud to be a part of this group of nasty women, who are not afraid to stand up for themselves, for their mothers, for their daughters. I feel proud to live in a time where we have an immensely qualified, intelligent woman who is running for the highest office in our country; President of the United Fucking States of America.

Tomorrow I will haul all three of my munchkins into my local polling place and cast my vote, with what feels like a million women standing beside me. For all of the vaginas that have fought for this right. For my kids. For my grand kids. And for myself.

I am (better late than never) a proud, nasty woman. And I am, 100%, with her.im-with-her

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