#metoo and $eggs

Yes, you can tell from the title that I am about to embark on something very sensitive—highly personal, intimate: awful. This might not be for everyone.

If this isn’t for you, I understand and suspect it’s because you have a story, and probably a deeply painful one. And if that’s the case, opt out. Protect your heart, protect your journey, protect your soul. Where you are is exactly where you need to be.

And when you’re ready, if and when that time comes, I’m here.?

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A few days ago, I got a DM on LinkedIn from Chauncey Z. . I’ve never met Chauncey, but she explained to me that she read a story I published earlier this week on postpartum depression. Chauncey has a podcast called Actual People (more on that later), and she wanted to have a conversation with me.

Being in the mindset these days of walking through open doors—and sensing, in the spaces between Chauncey’s written words, a type of rawness that draws me right now—I said yes. We scheduled to meet over Zoom, which was yesterday.

But before the call, she shot me a quick note and said, “I think we should record this!” That, I wasn’t sure I was ready for. You see, I’ve been on a creative streak lately—just thinking, writing, walking, repeat (notice, eating and sleeping are not part of this rhythm). So much so that I hadn’t washed my hair in a few days, hadn’t researched Chauncey or her podcast, didn’t know a thing about her audience, and definitely hadn’t planned a script or carefully thought-out Q&As.

I just showed up.??Feeling kind of raw myself.

And it was recorded—but only after a few minutes because Chauncey spent the first few under her desk, struggling to find the right cord. I knew right away we were going to be friends. Good ones.

So, we just start talking, and I explain, “Hey, I don’t know much about you. I’ve been on this creative streak, writing (expressing) kind of prolifically, so I didn’t do a lot of research, like I probably should have.” Even though we weren’t together IRL (which I always prefer), I could see her eyes light up. She was excited by this. Again, my kinda girl. (recording in progress).

And then Chauncey, like the good host, asks the question:

?“Why? What kicked this off, this writing streak?”

There are several reasons for that. Yet, and although not wanting to get “political” (because that would be a major faux pas, so taboo these days), I said, “Well, I think it was the election.”?

“Ahhhh, the election.” she says.

So let’s talk about this.?

Let’s go there.?

If you know me, you probably know where I stand on most issues, and this election? Yeah, it was deeply disappointing. Before you presume all sorts of things, let me assure you—it has nothing to do with electing the first woman to the presidency. Nothing about having a woman in the White House.? Nothing at all about breaking the glass ceiling and all of that other circa 2016 bullshit (which is not bullshit at all, but said right now for emphasis on the larger point).

This election was about women… well, mattering.?

And the results of it were… well, that we don’t.

Now, before you shut off your phone or go back to X, hang in here with me for a bit.?Because this is where it gets real. Really real. (and you can handle it).

One of the things I cannot, for the life of me, understand is this: many of the women I know—most of them—have been sexually assaulted. And let’s not beat around the bush with our words, that (often) means raped.

Rape is the most cruel, most violent, sickest thing one human being can do to another. Too many of the women I know have been raped by fathers, stepfathers, husbands, boyfriends, friends, and strangers. In their homes, out in the world, and sometimes even in dressing rooms.

This is why we chose the bear.

And yet, in this election, with all that was at stake, it seems like “women’s issues,” (take rape, for example), didn’t even rise to the level of being at the top of the list. I’m completely gobsmacked by that. Just. utterly. floored. Gutted.? Because, we, women, are (like my new BFF Chauncey says), Actual People.

And as I’ve reflected on it, I think it has something to do with the fact that we are so often silent—or rather, silenced—with our stories. For years, sometimes decades.

So, here is my story.?

I don’t have one.?

Nope, I don’t. There is no metoo in my #metoo. And if you’ve read my stories, you know I’ve been in some pretty vulnerable (the bad kind of vulnerable) situations—especially as a child. And yet, somehow, I escaped owning a #metoo story.

I think that puts me in the minority.

So with this, I think, I hope, I ask…might I be a person to help share some stories, to bring a voice to them?? Because when you do own your own story, it can consume you—unbearable, impossible, stuck in your throat like a scream you can’t release. For all the reasons. And we don’t need to go there now.

So, back to this election business. I encourage you, the reader (the voter), to start looking around you. Start listening to some stories. Women’s stories. Ask. Coax. Discover. The women around you (and yes, some men) carry stories that will slice, hot, right through you.

Maybe you need to hear about the 17yo Sally Field, raped while having an abortion. Maybe you pick up a paper and read the stories of women dying in hospitals, as doctors stand by, terrified to lose their licenses or be sued for giving life-saving care, or women bleeding out in their homes, or even their car, or dying from sepsis right in front of their husbands, parents, and young children.

And if you voted in this past election for the price of eggs, your job prospects, your wallet, the price of a fast-food hamburger, gas prices, disruption, against the brown people moving into your community, against tampons, the candidate who apparently wasn’t “qualified enough”, or “black enough,” Nancy Pelosi, the books you think my kids shouldn’t read, (oh) and who can go to the bathroom where (seriously, WTF?), or any other issue that was not a “women’s issue”, then maybe—maybe—you might benefit from hearing a few more stories.

Because here’s the thing, and it’s an existential thing (not to be confused with elitist): before there was a you, before you were a protected heartbeat in your mother’s womb, this YOU was part of something bigger, larger—a divine collective. So, so beautiful, isn’t it?

And right now, you are individuating, apart from that divine collective. Just running around life, in your own head, doing your thing, voting on whatever issue touches you, and probably only you.?You get to do that, right now, that is your right. Exercise it.

But someday, you will return — to that beautiful divine collective. And her story—her #metoo, all of the #metoos—will become yours. And that’s when you will get a glimpse into what hell is like.

And maybe, make the connection back to 1600.

I hope so. I pray for that. Because all of those Actual People, really do matter.

#voteforwomen