Sorting out & folding the dirty laundry, the too small clothes & the people who won’t help.

This post will be brief. A mixture of emotions have come out this week with the recent decision of my country to elect a sexist, racist bigot, a joke of a man, a TV personality as the next president, the rep for us all. Bravo Americans; how proud. 

Needless to say I’m not happy. I’m hurt, angry, disgusted and sickened but it all. 

I’m confused and frustrated. 

As many people have recently; My immediate family has shown their true colors surrounding this situation; and their lack of compassion, understanding or willingness to consider anything that I say to be something legitimately valid and more than an attack against their own person; alongside their stance that they either #1 don’t want to get involved, or #2 just don’t care or #3 trump supporter, has brought me to somewhere that is not my happy place. 

Childhood trauma has returned. 

Regardless I am committing myself to remaining supportive to those more heavily affected by this than I could ever be as a white woman. My own children, my husband; most of my community is directly affected by the racists that are no longer comfortable only behind closed doors.

People that are empowered by our new president elect to speak their minds and say or do awful things; because they can. People that look like me. 

We could argue about this until the end of the universe but the only truth is this; 

If you are not fighting against oppression than you are supporting the oppressor.

No excuses.

 Would you stand there watching and letting a teen-ager punch a three year old in the face while you idly sat back not wanting to get involved? 

Probably. 

Or would you speak up, stop the abuser from throwing punches and advocate for the child who could not defending their self?  Hug the child and comfort them; let them know that you believe they were hurt, and it was wrong, that you do everything you can to protect them? 

That’s different than this.

 I can hear you saying it. And is it really though? 

Standing idle while witnessing any situation of injustice is something that shows the victim you are on the other side.

Watching a crime being committed makes you an accomplice. 

Sitting in the living room watching me sort through and fold an enormous pile of laundry all alone shows me you do not actually have my back. 

So out they go…..with the dirty laundry and the too small clothes that just won’t fit my kids right anymore.  

The people who are not interested in joining me to fold and sort; who make the choice to sit by me watching me do it or choose to criticize me for not having it done already; for having too many clothes; for the mess the laundry makes……can hit me up when they are ready to be a contributing member of this household, this community, this country, this world.

 Until then… 

Peace out yo.✌🏾✌️

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