Fuck no, I don’t love you or forgive you

Since Donald Trump winning last night I’ve seen several posts by people urging those of us who are upset, hurt and terrified by this election to be understanding, open-minded and to love Trump and his supporters.  To accept him as president-elect.

People have been sharing that one particular Martin Luther King Jr.,

Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that.

And to that I just have one thing to say: fuck you. I don’t have to love Donald Trump, I don’t have to love the GOP, I don’t even have to fucking love the Democratic Party. The only people I have any obligation to are myself, my family, my friends and all of the people who are going to be hurt by the decision to elect Orange Hitler.
Don’t you dare tell me that the only way that oppression and hate will go away is if the oppressed love and are nice to our oppressors. I reject that notion.

I’ve already seen several posts from White liberals who are so surprised that America could elect Donald Trump. Marginalized people have been warning about this from the get-go. You love saying Donald Trump doesn’t represent America; doesn’t represent American values but if you knew anything of your history; of American History you fucking know that Donald Trump is a product of America. This is stolen land; it was founded on the oppression of people of color.

Conversion therapy to “cure the gay” is still a thing which Mike Pence, VP-elect supports and advocates for. Racism, sexism, misogyny, homophobia transphobia, hatred of all religions save Christianity, all of these different types of oppression are completely American. Donald Trump is not an anomaly. Donald Trump exists because this country encourages, enables and fosters these types of attitudes.

I do not have to tolerate, accept, or love it. I’m beyond over liberals telling me and mine that all we have to do to make things better is to be nice. I am done being nice. Abusers and oppressors don’t deserve my kindness, let alone my love.
You know what? During the whole campaign I saw so many supposedly progressive people constantly throw mentally ill people under the bus by calling Trump supporters by ableist slurs; questioning their cognitive ability.
Accusing women of only voting Hillary becuase of some “gender bias”.
None of those things are very “nice”, but I guess when it’s white liberals doing it then it’s all OK. Let a marginalize person fight back and suddenly you white liberals get bent out of shape.

I will fight you every step of the way for myself, for my child, for my friends, for my family and all other marginalized and oppressed people. I am angry, I am sad, I am devastated but I’m not surprised. I’m in mourning and I’ll be mourning for a while but you’re not going to be able to get rid of me and mine. You’re going to get hatred, you’re going to get my anger, you’re going to remember me and you’re going to regret ever fucking with us.

By the way since you love all quoting MLK Jr. so fucking much, how about you read his Letter from a Birmingham Jail,

I must make two honest confessions to you, my Christian and Jewish brothers. First, I must confess that over the past few years I have been gravely disappointed with the white moderate. I have almost reached the regrettable conclusion that the Negro’s great stumbling block in his stride toward freedom is not the White Citizen’s Counciler or the Ku Klux Klanner, but the white moderate, who is more devoted to “order” than to justice; who prefers a negative peace which is the absence of tension to a positive peace which is the presence of justice; who constantly says: “I agree with you in the goal you seek, but I cannot agree with your methods of direct action”; who paternalistically believes he can set the timetable for another man’s freedom; who lives by a mythical concept of time and who constantly advises the Negro to wait for a “more convenient season.” Shallow understanding from people of good will is more frustrating than absolute misunderstanding from people of ill will. Lukewarm acceptance is much more bewildering than outright rejection.

Fuck no, I don’t love you or forgive you

“Just be positive”

If I had a dollar for every time I’ve been told to “stay positive” I would have been able to leave the shelter a long time ago. I always get this when I express any feeling other than absolute fucking joy. Do people not understand that after being kicked so long it’s hard to just believe things will work?

When I went into the shelter almost five years ago, I was optimistic. I was on my own with a baby and scared. However, I just knew things would work out. I just had to believe and I was positive things would go well. After going back and forth from a hotel to the main office while they found a domestic violence shelter that would accept me, I was positive. Every day, several phone calls to different shelters, and I was there positively positive.

I’m placed in a domestic violence shelter but told it’s only a 4 month stay. If I’m not accepted into low-income housing, then I have to go back to the office and start over this time in a regular shelter. But I was positive. I would be placed somewhere.

I wasn’t. And so I had to take a two-hour train ride in the middle of Winter during a particularly cold day with a baby back to the office. Then wait and wait and wait for a new shelter. But it was OK. Things would work out. I was positive they would.

But then TJ got food poisoning from the lunches they served at the office. Things would be OK though. I just needed to remain positive. Hadn’t things worked out so far, albeit with a few hiccups?

I was finally placed, but I had to get there myself. The drivers were out and they didn’t know when they’d be back. If I wasn’t in the shelter in four hours I’d lose my placement. That was OK though. I was a little worried having to carry a suitcase, a stroller and a sleeping baby to the train which had no elevator at 11pm in NYC but I’d be OK. I was positive I would be.

The stroller got stuck on the platform. No one helped me. The train was coming. I missed it. I was still stuck, wanting to cry. But I wouldn’t. I would be OK. I just needed to remain positive.

I got lost on my way to the shelter in a strange neighborhood in NYC. But I would be OK.
I was in that shelter for two years. But I didn’t worry. I was tired and the word “positive” made my eye twitch but I still clung to it. If I lose this, I’ll lose everything. I was always hearing how hope is the last thing you lose. I didn’t want to lose hope. I had already lost so much.
I get an opportunity to leave the shelter. I was ecstatic. TJ could start kindergarten as a non-homeless kid. I could have peace of mind and go back to school. My mental health would improve drastically. I was excited! I rarely ever got excited about anything anymore. Positivity had worked.

Two months later we were back in the shelter.

More misery. More tears, more failure. But why? I had been so positive.

I realize this all may sound a lot like faith and isn’t that weird because I’m an atheist? But no, not really. I wasn’t praying to a god. I was just hoping that I’d finally catch a break. I was just hoping that once, just once, the system would help me. But the system isn’t there to help you. The system isn’t broken but it does break you. I had been broken.

So, I kept living and surviving like I always did. I had no other choice. But I no longer had any dreams about my career or schooling. I wasn’t fooling myself into thinking I’d get out of here soon.

So it’s more misery and suffering and failures.

Along the way though I’ve met some wonderful people in online spaces. They care about me and TJ. They’re affirming and gentle and loving. If I’m in a tough spot they rally around me and help. But I was hesitant to accept that at first. I didn’t believe I deserved it. Hadn’t I been suffering alone all this time? Why were these people here trying to help?

I’ve recently found an apartment and my friends helped me share my fundraiser for moving expenses. We reached our goal within a day. But the idea of my having an apartment; of finally leaving the shelter is scary beyond hell.

The apartment has been on my mind nonstop since I found out I was accepted. I go through feelings of happiness, to anxiety that it’s happening, to disbelieving it will. Then I remember that I just need to give them the money. I signed the paperwork already. Then I get this really calm feeling and think “what if this is the break you’ve been waiting for? What if this is it?”

Then I panic because I don’t how to live other than being scared and panicked. I don’t know how to live without feeling like I’m constantly on the edge of disaster. If it isn’t one crisis, it’s another. I don’t know how to relax.

I go on these emotional roller coasters and my friends let me vent and validate me. Then the well-meaning but misguided “positivity preachers” show up. They tell me to relax and calm down. I just need to be positive.

But positivity won’t make the anxiety go away. Positivity didn’t get me the apartment. Positivity didn’t get the money raised. Sometimes “be positive” just sounds like, “Shut up. You’re making me uncomfortable thinking about the hardships people face”. It feels like a silencing tactic.
I’ve found that the people who go on about positivity are either privileged people who’ve never experienced much oppression, or people who are like I once was. People who haven’t been kicked enough times. This is completely cynical on my part, but I do believe that they’ll eventually come to my realization that positivity is bullshit. Whatever good things I have haven’t happened because I was positive. They happened because the friends I have are kind people, and because I’m slowly learning to accept people’s affection and help. Positivity, in the sense that’s it’s some wish granter, hasn’t helped with that. That has been a lot of work on my part.

I’ll tell you though, one thing I am positive about is that I’m lucky to have these wonderful people in my life. I’ve survived this long and that’s a positive thing. TJ is thriving and that’s positive.

I am OK. I do worry. Sometimes the worry is justified, others it’s just my anxiety getting the best of me, but I need to be able to vent these feelings.

Whether things go smoothly or not has nothing to do with my thoughts. If I could so easily control outcomes just by being positive, I would have left the shelter long ago. Unfortunately platitudes don’t put bread on the table.

“Just be positive”