So Many Trigger Warnings That Really, No One Should Read This

On October 7, 2016, the "grab 'em by the pussy" tape was released. Just to refresh your memory, this is what Trump said to then- Access Hollywood co-host, Billy Bush: "When you're a star, they let you do it. You can do anything. Grab 'em by the pussy."

I remember like it was yesterday how triggered I was by that. Mr. Moon and I had gone to Apalachicola for a few days of fun and I was so upset, so angry that we really didn't have a great time. I felt guilty but I could not NOT feel the way I was feeling. It's strange- I can read or hear about sexual abuse of children with less PTSD than when I hear about men who get away with the abuse. Not only of children but of women in general. 
I remember the fury I had as a child, a teenager, when my stepfather would chastise me for something, for anything, really or would tell me what I could and could not do, whether it was that I couldn't date until I was sixteen or that I had to model the two-piece bathing suit I'd just bought for him to decide whether I would be allowed to wear it or not. 
I wasn't allowed to have a lock on my bedroom door. There were so many ways he tried to control me and he did control me up to a certain point, and it was all about his power. By the time I was in my early teens, the sexual abuse had ended but the emotional abuse continued, probably worse than ever. He had to maintain that power in order to ensure my silence about what he'd done. Some of my most terrifying memories of all the events were times when he didn't even touch me. He didn't have to. He had already taken care of that part. And so what in the name of the god I already did not believe in gave him the right to tell me how to behave?

And so to hear this man, this joke of a casino owner, of a reality show host, who was actually running for president say what he said about getting away with it because of his star power, his fame, sickened me. It triggered me, as I said, and I felt nauseous and as if I'd been threatened all over again while at the same time, enraged. 

I'm willing to bet that almost every woman has, in her life, been pressured into having sex, or some man has attempted to pressure her into having sex, and not necessarily in any sort of violent way. And no, not anywhere near all of the men who have done this are evil or abusive but the simple inherent imbalance of power built into us by the patriarchal world in which we live is so common and so accepted that women have way too often given in to avoid what could possibly become violent or even just incredibly uncomfortable or because the guy took her out for a nice dinner or brought her flowers or... is her boss, a coworker with a higher position, a guy who accuses her of leading him on, of having come on to HIM. Oh, there are a million reasons a woman capitulates. Sometimes it's just a matter of the fight/flight/or freeze response. 
You would not believe how many of us have been subtly and yet powerfully taught that freezing is the safest way to deal with the situation. 

So what? So why is all of this what I'm thinking about now? Is it the Epstein files? 
Not really. The ones they've released are so redacted and cherry-picked that anyone who has any real power isn't in them, easily to be found. 
It's mostly an article I read in the NYT's written by Nicholas Confessore with Rebecca R. Ruiz, Matthew Goldstein, David Enrich, and Steve Elder contributing. The article came out two says ago and I shouldn't have read it but I did. 

Female bodies were currency. 
FEMALE BODIES WERE CURRENCY. 
FEMALE BODIES WERE CURRENCY.

The article has statements by many women whose bodies were used as currency about how these two men and all of the other men in their private boys club felt as if they had every right in the world to touch, to fondle, to grope, to bed any woman (or girl) they wanted either because of the money, the fame, the name, or the power. 
Or...just because they were men. Older men. Much older men. Men who could perhaps ensure them a career as a model or who could help them work their way up the beauty pageant chain. Perhaps have a career as an actress. The possibilities were limitless. All you had to do was...

Whatever the men wanted. 

Some of the women refused. When Donald would enter their room at Mar-A-Lago, uninvited and unwanted to grope and fondle them, they would assertively push him off. But many did not. Could not. How any of them could is beyond me. I could never be that strong and self-assured.
And here's the thing- this was not only indicative of how he saw and thought of and treated women. It was also indicative of how he saw himself as above any sort of law or moral code because he was who he was and he was best friends with a man who was friends with some of the wealthiest men in the world, powerful politicians, movie directors, university professors. Hell- a FUCKING PRINCE! And they were all in it together. A secret little cabal of men who all considered themselves about the law with no need to worry about the emotional and physical harm they were doing to both children and young women because female bodies were the currency. 

And here's the thing- even if the electorate did not know of the Epstein connection, of the unreported sexual harassment, of the actual rapes, just those few words caught on tape about grabbing women by the pussy should have told everyone exactly what kind of a man he was. This wasn't just locker room talk. This was an admission that Trump did not think of himself as someone who had to follow the rules that applied to everyone else. That he did not care at all what harm his actions could cause. 
Say what you will about the man and all of his lies, he always told us exactly who he was. 
Remember when he said "I could stand in the middle of Fifth Avenue and shoot somebody, okay, and I wouldn't lose any voters, okay? It's, like, incredible."

Ha, ha, ha! People said. "Oh, that Donald. He's such a joker."

No. He wasn't joking. He meant it. And he got elected, not once, but twice, and now he's getting away with breaking laws left and right, wiping his ass on the Constitution, causing the deaths of untold numbers of people, and displaying no more regard for the people of this country than he did for the women whose bodies were currency for him and his pal. He knew Epstein was a horrible, sleazy pedophile, but he admired him and the power he wielded, just as he admires dictators and murderers and leaders of drug cartels. And just as with Epstein, he wants to be their best buddies. He sucks up to them, he kisses their asses, he says, "Things happen."
And just as he wanted women to want him, to admire him, to stoke his ego, he wants his staff and his cabinet and his minions to want him, to admire him, to constantly feed the bottomless pit of his need to be admired and praised. 

I tried to tell Glen how I was feeling about this today. I cried, and then I shouted, "And I hate every person in this country who voted for him. They knew what he was and they voted for him anyway. I HATE them."

And I do. If that's a horrible thing to say then so be it. 

I felt better after my outburst and I thanked my husband for listening to me. I spent a great deal of time in the garden today. I planted more collards because the ones I'd planted earlier are just not thriving. Probably a combination of needing fertilization or soil enrichment, and lack of sunlight. I also replanted some chard because so much of the row August and I planted didn't even come up. And then I weeded. I got on my knees in the dirt and I weeded the tiniest weeds, hundreds of them, and I listened to a not-great book but not a horrible one either and I needed all of that so bad. 
Same with the soup I've made. I needed to do that too. 

I'm not sure why I felt the need to write all this again but I did. I do. I think that many, many women know what I'm talking about. I doubt I've made myself very clear but this is how I'm feeling and have been feeling for nine years now except that every day of DJ Fuckwad's time in office is worse than the one before. 

I love the way Maurice hangs out with me outside. 

And I love the way the mustard greens are edged with such beautiful frills. They must be washed thoroughly or there will be dirt in either your pot of greens or your salad. They are best soaked for awhile, rinsed, and rinsed again. 
Some things can easily be soaked and rinsed to a state of absolute cleanliness. Some things never, ever could be. Or will be. 
And there is no use in trying or even believing it to be possible and it is best to simply pull those things out by the root and toss them on the burn pile.

Love...Ms. Moon