I am not the slightest bit crazy about you, and have even yet to forgive you for calling black youth super predators and not taking accountability for that or the other things you’ve done while serving that have hurt my people, but I am a forgiving person and I believe that beneath your exterior that the media uses to portray you as an unlikable person, you are capable of the same compassion, understanding and reason-ability as any human being. I mean who knows who anyone really is, right? You and I couldn’t be further above and below in our roles and levels in society, but I refuse to believe any one person does not have emotions, and most importantly a heart that speaks. Because we are so incredibly different, I approach this addressing and channeling you as a human, being based on the same feelings that compelled me to write this. It is my heart, and humanity, and relation to you as a human being and “woman” that compelled me to write this letter.
All differences aside, this just wasn’t fair.
I personally know what it’s like to live majority of my every day life with armor. For me, it’s just always been that way. Always wanting the best of me to show, but having built a guard I don’t know how to let down and hardly ever reason to feel like I can. I know what it’s like to feel as strong as you appear to me, and I believe like me you very much are. But I don’t know you. I don’t know how much of what I think comes from accurate observations. Even though I have my unsettled differences with you, this just wasn’t fair.
Because no one knows you, there has been an unfair portrayal of you. Every moment I resented you, was followed with empathy for you. The words “nasty” stuck to me for you. The amount of misogyny slinging from left to right made me overwhelmed for you, and at times even made my skin crawl uncomfortably for you. And when I sat on my bed confused by the outcome of the election, and then you take the stage with lightly glazed eyes to apologize for the glass ceiling not shattering the next day, I recognized the reality of what happened to you.
And today, when I saw a clip of you at the inauguration today, seeming to have accepted what’s happened, I saw you wink at Barack and wondered if you weren’t really only a few blinks away from the glazed eyes you addressed the country with during your concession speech. a deep thought spoke to me saying “She took this personally, as a woman.”
I mean it, you were the qualified one. You were the better choice. You literally worked your life away to reach the level you have in your arena, an arena no other woman stepped in to. Maybe the presidency was something you’ve dreamed of your whole life, maybe not. You were the first woman with the chance. It was supposed to be your “day” (really time), and it was stolen. And I empathized with the woman in you. Even though I know that’s the last thing you might want is anyone feeling sorry for you. I am that way, but I’ve learned we need empathy.
I was angry at you and I haven’t forgotten what for, but there was a part of me within all my anger and frustration with you that was rooting for the woman in you.
If my intuition holds any truth here, I want to say I’m sorry for the disrespect you’ve endured as not only a woman, but a person who did all they could do to deserve the job they were seeking, who had all the experience one would need. I’m sorry if your lost your dream. I’m sorry for how it happened, and the abuse you had to endure through this election and throughout your career.
Fitting into a marginalized group, I was born into that discrimination. Yet I still empathize with you. I still hurt for you.
We share a love for being outside alone, and I wish you a lifetime left of long walks in nature. If you’re you’re at all like I think, I know it is one of the things that relieves the armored. The places that exist in this world with no reasons to distrust. The next time you reach your destination on the a trail or visit to an ocean (if you like that, too) and are able to feel safe and humbled, I hope you will draw in all the things from that divine source that keeps the strongest going and also allows us to let all the hurt out. Our only place for restoration and reconciliation. I hope you have compassion for yourself. We need it. I have yet to have grandchildren or add nearly as many years on to my life that you have to yours, but I know that some of us human beings are more alike than we think.
Well, Hillary, I hope you laugh as much and as hard in your private life as you do in your public one. Laughter helps. We need it. You’re still unprecedented in your achievements. Whether or whether not it feels like enough for you is for you only.
You got the closest, you went the farthest. If it were anyone this day, it would have been you. I don’t know how you feel, but from where I stand it looks like enough. I write this with no partisan whatsoever, just what my heart spoke, human to human, “woman” to woman.
Grace & Peace for you I hope,