It Was Never About The Pussy

BLUNTmoms
Written by BLUNTmoms

I’ve seen the memes, crying out against the hypocrisy of “acting like a whore” and then complaining about a President who says something vulgar. Let me tell you this: IT WAS NEVER ABOUT THE PUSSY. I don’t care that he used the word. It’s just a word. I care that he seemed to indicate he could grab it without consent. It was never about the pussy, it was about the idea he was entitled to it. It was never about vulgarity, it was about sexual assault. It was never about “bad words” it was about the tacit approval of “bad acts.”

I’ve seen the memes calling for people to get over it and calling us sore losers. It’s not about that either. Loss of an election is one thing. We aren’t talking about that right now. What we are talking about is the threat of infringement of the rights of minority groups. What we are talking about is fear he will do the things he said he would do. If you can get over it, you never had anything to worry about in the first place. You do not fear hunger, your fridge is full. It seems like folks voted for him assuming his campaign personality was merely a caricature of who he would be in office. When someone tells you who they are, for goodness sakes believe them.

Let this be a lesson. You, Trump voter, were in a position to gamble on whether he would be that awful in real life because you didn’t consider yourself a target. How nice for you. Stop telling those he is targeting to calm down. When has that ever worked in the history of ever? Make a conscious decision not to participate in gas lighting people who have reason to be seriously terrified. Stop rolling around in riches telling poor people not to stress about the bills. Stop judging the less fortunate through the lens of abundance.

I’ve seen you, lady, telling everyone your reproductive rights are just fine and you don’t need special snowflakes to make a blizzard for you. Newsflash: it’s not just about you. This is like checking in on Facebook in the event of disaster to announce you’re fine, call off the search parties. Good for you.  Don’t suggest we hold back the life rafts because you’re not personally drowning. Your personal comfort warm and dry inside does not negate the need for an umbrella factory. Sweaters won’t stop being made just because you are not cold.

So you’ve never peed on a stick after being raped praying for no positive result. So you’ve never had a pregnancy that became medically unviable. So you can afford your own birth control. So you’re not in an abusive relationship where your choice to take it has been removed by someone who beats you. So you don’t have a medical condition that pregnancy could turn fatal. Good for you. This isn’t even about arguing the traditionally socially acceptable reasons to terminate a pregnancy. You shouldn’t get to choose for someone else. A guy who gets his hard-on funded by the government shouldn’t have the right to decide a woman should be held hostage in her own body even if it kills her and pretending its about the sanctity of life. Whose life? A woman is not an incubator. Stop calling yourself pro-life when you are clearly just pro-birth and don’t conflate the two. If you don’t value the maternal life, sit the fuck down.

It was never about vulgarity, be vulgar, I don’t give a shit. But don’t tell people it’s cool to just grab a woman’s pussy. Or cunt, if you prefer. What the fuck ever. I am not the language police.

It was never about losing. We aren’t the only ones losing. We all lost. Your international neighbours. People celebrating the defeat of Obamacare while praising their own Affordable Care Act coverage not knowing it’s the same damned thing geniuses. A bill of goods has been sold to a nation that does not yet comprehend how seriously it’s been fucked (without the benefit of birth control.)

It was never about marching to protect your privilege, Stepford wives of America. We march for you, yes, but we fight for those who are a picket fence short of a safe abortion, a Tupperware party short of an ability to go to the clinic to get their sick kid checked out and a country club membership short of being able to practice their religion unassailed.

And as for you, Mr. President,  it was never about the pussy, and you can’t grab ours.

Your tiny hands cannot contain this blizzard. The snowflakes are coming.

About the author

BLUNTmoms

BLUNTmoms

An amazing collection of bright women who somehow manage to work, play, parent and survive and write blog posts all at the same time. We are the BLUNTmoms, always honest, always direct and surprising hilarious.

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2 Comments

  • Thank you. I was one of those women sitting at home and criticizing the women marchers. I remember when I was in the fourth grade and living in Salt Lake City when My Mother and her sister brought myself and my sister to the State Capitol to march on their steps for women’s rights. I still have the lapel pin with the symbol for ‘woman’ on it; the woman’s fist inside the orange circle with a cross on the bottom. I yelled at the TV and my computer screen “we already marched for your rights!” I wanted to tell them to “go home and ask your mothers and your grandmothers about marching for Women’s Lib (it was short for “liberation”) and rights for the blacks in the sixties!” I completely understand what you are saying. I myself have had an abortion and I too, believe that women should be the only ones making decisions for their own bodies. I hear you. I hear you and I am sorry for yelling at all of you. I’m sorry I didn’t think more clearly about it. I’m embarrassed and I want to thank you for setting me straight. This was a fabulous article that was well written. I loved it!