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Trigger warning: I write about being raped (c. 1999) by one of my heroes, how I’m processing the decades-old rage I suppressed, and what’s coming up for me as I reflect on the ‘conditional allyship’ I received for staying (mostly) silent.
I don't need to tell you that we're undergoing a collective existential crisis. The world is (and has been) on fire, with POTUS & Co. adding a seemingly endless supply of accelerant. So what do we do? I have some thoughts.
I'm fucking livid as I watch Trump burning our world to the ground. And there ain't no way in hell that I'm about to gaslight myself and the people who are bearing the brunt of his unhinged policies—namely (but not exclusively), people of color—by bypassing 'dark' emotions that bubble up when I witness atrocities.