Well…it’s election day. I wrote this a little while ago, but it seems fitting to post this today; and then maybe tomorrow (if I’m in the mood and not completely burnt out on election “stuff”) I’ll write something about actual election results. Maybe. Ha!
By now I’m assuming everyone has seen one of Trump’s many falls-from-grace that occurred this endless campaign season, courtesy of a leaked video tape that set a snowball rolling down the universal mountain of scandal and ruin. And if by some miracle you haven’t heard about it yet at this late date, then that means you must live in a magical place where negativity cannot reach you…and I want to move there with you. So can you send me your address please?
I’ve not said much publicly about Donald Trump or Hillary Clinton; mostly because while at work I need to remain solidly neutral out of respect for our clients. But when asked I’ll admit I’m no supporter of his, and when pushed further, I’ll also acknowledge my plans are to vote for Hillary Clinton come election time (though even that I’m doing a bit grudgingly).
He’s said plenty of things that offended me throughout this campaign. Done things that made my skin crawl, not just as a woman, but as a thinking, breathing human being who has a regard for my fellow human beings. But it was that leaked video that finally tipped me over the edge. Probably because it reminded me so viscerally of my ex, like sandpaper getting scraped over a raw wound. And trust me, you do not want to remind me of Randall.
I sat in silence for almost two years while Randall would refer to women as “b*tches” and “ho*s” and “thots” and pretty much every other derogatory name you can think of. Speaking about women in exactly the same way as Mr. Trump…and doing so in front of me, which always left me feeling downright nauseous. I at first rebelled, telling him I didn’t like him referring to women that way and certainly he was to never refer to me that way. But over time he’d slip those derogatory terms into more and more conversations, wearing me down, and before I knew it I was hearing him refer to me as “this b*tch here” on an almost daily basis.
(No, it never stopped bothering me. Every time he used those words, something in me died a little. And it was abundantly clear he didn’t care, because he kept doing it.)
Juxtaposed against that were the other words he spoke regularly; Randall talked a good game about having a high regard/respect for women. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever heard another man in my entire life talk so loudly and proudly about how much he respects women…until Trump. He would spout off about how he could never hurt a woman, how seeing a young woman in tears always moved him to want to help her, and how he just couldn’t understand why anyone would ever resort to treating women so badly.
Well…here’s a little spoiler for you: in reality, Randall’s actions did not back up his words. Not even close. And I’m fairly certain you’d discover the same result with Trump.
The minute Randall had a drink or two, or got a little bit ruffled or upset, women were “b*tches” and “h*es” and “dumb thots” and plenty of other derogatory terms (including the always horrific, disgusting ‘c’ word that I will not dignify in this post). And don’t even get me started on how many times he’d brazenly talk about how badly he wanted to “f*ck” all the various young women who he had parading through our home on a daily basis. How according to him they were dumb and useless for much, but it didn’t matter so long as their a*ses were fat and their p*ssies were tight. (I apologize for the crude language; these were his words, not mine, and at this point I’m just painting a picture.)
My stomach would turn over listening to the depraved way he and his young friends were speaking about these women. Even more so when I’d catch fragments of degrading statements he’d make about me as well. It was incredibly dehumanizing, and chilled me to the marrow of my bones.
And worst of all…I eventually learned about all the horrifically depraved things he was actually doing behind my back.
So it wasn’t just words. There were plenty of actions, and to this day it turns my stomach thinking about what I’ve learned:
Coerced threesomes with vulnerable young women. Sex with one woman in a park, because I was at home and he was trying to keep it a secret (she was drunk and I’ve since been told by a witness she was not fully on board with what was happening but he was quite persistent). Bringing young women home and (from what I’ve been told) having sex with them in my bed while I wasn’t home. There was even an orgy of sorts, where he and two or three other men had sex with a young woman all at once. Yes, again in my home (I was working on my business ventures a lot, if people are wondering where I was during all of this). He and his friends took advantage of her need for a place to stay (and I know that same young woman now has negative feelings about the whole experience, because she’s said so).
Then of course there was all the shameless flirting he did with women, both in front of me and when I wasn’t around. With women in person, and also to endless women online via Facebook, Snapchat, and elsewhere. And then of course there’s the fact that he also was apparently running around bragging to several people that he was just waiting for me to strike it rich with my business, and then his plan was to take half of everything, leave me, and return to his ex (multiple sources confirmed that depressing fact after I finally broke up with him).
Does this sound to you like a man who has nothing but the highest respect for women?
Oh, and those comments he’d make about how he wouldn’t dream of ever hitting or harming a woman? That was false too. I witnessed him hit a young woman upside the head – twice – with an open palm…and to this day I still can’t figure out why he was prompted to do such a thing.
I say all that simply because I vowed I would never again stay silent if I witnessed depraved behavior on the part of anyone, man or woman. And at this point, that includes the actions of a potential POTUS.
Donald Trump can say all he wants that he has the highest regard for women…but I assure you, he does not. I guarantee you the way he was talking in that recording is how he talks 99% of the time, and he only cleans it up a little when he knows cameras are rolling.
I know who and what he is, because I lived with someone just like him for well over 18 months. A narcissist. A psychopath.
No doubt his supporters probably won’t care what I have to say. And that’s okay; it took me a long time to finally come to grips with the true nature of the relationship I found myself in too. No one wants to believe such depraved people can truly exist in this world; most of us are always looking for the good in those around us. And that’s a good thing. Nothing to be ashamed of, and so there’s no judgment from me on that front. I’m not trying to change minds. But months of working through all the trauma with a therapist, and teasing apart the last few years of my life, has left me unable to sit silently by at this point either.
Maybe all I can do is post this in my tiny little speck of the internet, where most people won’t even see it…but that’s okay. I’ll do it anyway, with all my heart.
Your behavior is deplorable, Mr. Trump. And I won’t accept any of your excuses any longer. It’s all the same kind of rationale Randall would use when I’d confront him; and you know what? It’s complete and utter nonsense. I know plenty of men in my life who don’t speak about women in such a degrading, dehumanizing way. You could do better…you just choose not to.
So I call bullshit on that. And I always will.
**Disclaimer: Names and other identifying information about certain individuals have been changed to protect the identities of individuals whose permission I have not gained to write publicly about their lives; but aside from those names and specific personal identifiers, all the events described herein are factually correct and occurred as I’ve described.