I’m not a Twitter~er, so FB had to suffice. I’ve stayed out of the soul crushing shit~storm that is Facebook, until today. The shit I’ve/we’ve seen there? Truly frightening.

Not looking for any group hugs or push back here. I fully feel this way & think some of you may, too.

I am an old woman who’s been around too many blocks to count. I’m also a white woman, so I’m sure there are way worse stories than mine. Then there is actual assault/ rape... devastating.

I needed to spell it out for the young women I love that are on the train to disaster with “populist thinking;” that they may need to look inward at their own young lives. Doubles me over with sadness that they can even entertain the thought of Trump.

I love Michelle Obama. I am going to miss that First Family, and our President, so very much.

I went full on personal. You can, too, if you want. xoxo.

Following is my post:

“Michelle Obama, my sister, my voice; history will be good to you. I sat in my driveway with the radio on, listening to her speech, and dissolved in sobbing tears as she so plainly, eloquently laid out what I’ve been feeling. I’ve buried this for so long as, “Boys will be boys. Men will be men. Be quiet. Don’t make waves. This is normal behavior.”
Here is my experience as a girl/woman.

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8 years old: A neighbor boy laid out a backyard football strategy on my chest. The other boys were laughing. I was wearing tough skins & a t-shirt; my girlfriends were scattered about the yard, not near me. I did not even have breasts yet, but I cried when I was safely home in my room and I had no idea why I was crying..

12 years old: My beautiful Aunt Lorraine took me to my first Broadway show in the “old” Times Square, with my dear cousin. I had to take the Academy bus in to meet them there. Never mind the cat~calling to us from the red light shops. On the ride home, my Auntie put me in the seat directly behind the bus driver. The man who got on after me proceeded to dirty talk me for the entire length of the Parkway. I was wearing my best Sunday church dress. When he ran his hand up my thigh to my underpants, I jumped up and ran to the back of the bus, crying. The bus stopped in Keansburg nd he got off, whether he lived there or not, I do not know. A woman (God love her) noticed me crying asked me what was wrong. I told her. She stood up and shouted, “STOP THIS BUS!!!!” He was already gone. The bus stayed in place. The Police & my parents were notified. Men being men.

14 years old: 8 years of Catholic grammar school leading to my first (and last) year of Catholic High school in Red Bank. There was a very popular hang out, which if I even told you the cuisine, you’d know who & where, so I won’t. I asked for a glass of water & was welcomed to get it myself in the kitchen. So, I did. Proprietor followed me in and cornered me from behind against the sink & groped the holy hell out of me. I ducked and ran. Reported him to the (man) principal the next day and was told that I made it up & that such fabricated charges would ruin his business. I was wearing a fucking ugly uniform, too, FYI. Not that what I was wearing matters. I was 14 f***ing years old.

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16 years old: I got my first job at 13 in a pizza place, so I was a seasoned worker by then! Started a creative job with a florist in Rumson and I was so excited. It only took a half hour, on my first day, before my breasts were “accidentally” touched a half dozen times. I thought I was imagining it, but then realized after the 4th time that i was’t imagining it. Stayed to make sure. Took my apron off, threw it, and told him he was an asshole. This time, though, when I told my then boyfriend, he wanted to mess the guy up. He’s still a good man.

27 years old: A highly respected, world class photographer put his hand, palm side, with one finger up, on my chair as I returned from the restroom in a beautiful restaurant where we were having dinner after a long shoot day. Of course I didn’t notice. Of course I sat down and got a finger in my lady parts. I had no power, so said nothing, while everyone laughed.

28 years old: Working on a shoot with a Hollywood producer....do I even need to tell this one? No. No I don’t. You already know what happened and what the response to reporting him was.

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I have more stories, but these are the “highlights.”

I’ve gotten personal to show that it happens to all of us. Every single one of us women. That we suppress it and justify it because that’s what we have always needed to do. Clearly, reporting is futile. We’re left to reconcile it ourselves.

So, Michelle Obama got me in the gut & soul today. And, Donald Trump is not only unfit to be President of our great nation, he is unfit to lick my ass~kicking lady boots.”