“Coping in Trumpland?”

         I didn’t plan this journey into Trumpland. I didn’t put this nightmare adventure park on my Bucket List of places that I must travel to before I die. Instead, the people around me abducted me. With hands cuffed, feet bound, and mouth duct taped, they forced me to join them.

         I kick and scream and struggle. I resist.

         I don’t want to be here.

        Trumpland feeds fears.

        Trumpland belittles kindness.

         Trumpland strips dignity from its citizens.

         Trumpland operates as a for profit business.

         Trumpland makes up its own rules.

         If I complain, insults thunder over me and drown out my protests.

“Libtard.”

“Stupid Snowflake.”

“Delusional.”

“Communist.”

“Socialist.”

“Mouthy Bitch.”

“Worthless Cunt.”

I respond with phone calls and emails, petitions and protest rallies.

I focus on the one thing I know best—educating those who do not understand. That means I spend hours each day reading, fact checking, and sharing.

I do this because I want to go home.

Copyright 2017 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman

  

          

         

“Pretty Girls”

         Some mornings pace out like a stretching cat, slow and sinewy. I find time to write, jot off a few emails, or even read an article or two before my daily routine kicks into overdrive. This morning, Mom woke up complaining that she felt sick. We’ve begun to suspect that really means she’s hungry. After two huge pancakes soaked in syrup and a mug of heated Boost, Mom retreated back to bed, mumbling that she felt cold and instructing me to tuck an extra blanket around her.

         My unexpected free morning led me to peruse Facebook, where I stumbled upon a magnificently powerful essay written by Ashley Judd. In this piece, she articulated her frustration with our society’s obsession over physical appearance. She blasted the media for its derogatory attitudes and agenda when dealing with women.

         I wish every Hollywood actress and runway model would throw away her scales. I wish they would fire their trainers and their private chefs. I wish they would eat sensibly and eat well. I wish they would exercise for health and not for wealth. I wish they would never visit a plastic surgeon. I wish they would embrace crow’s feet and cellulite.  I wish they would unite and declare, “No more size 0 for me!”

         Wouldn’t it be lovely to see our women gently embracing life’s events instead of battling against nature? I’m tired of pregnant women dieting because they want to be within five pounds of their “pre-baby weight” once they deliver. I’m worn out by women who guzzle wine and puff cigarettes to control their appetites. I’m exhausted by the queries of my fifty-something friends on whether a facelift or Botox treatment would make them look younger and sexier. I’m tired of seeing friends starve themselves into bikinis that really should be worn only by younger women.

         I challenge my fellow females to look into their mirrors, see the “flaws” and to declare, “I love the crinkles around my eyes when I smile!” For you see, everyone’s beautiful when she smiles.  

http://www.thedailybeast.com/articles/2012/04/09/ashley-judd-slaps-media-in-the-face-for-speculation-over-her-puffy-appearance.html?fb_ref=article&fb_source=home_multiline

Copyright 2012 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman