senate hearings and un-hearings

i’ve felt a lot of things the last couple of days

disdain. angry. hurt. Fear. sadness. confused. distrust. unheard.

no no no. that’s not it.

i feel angry. unheard. hurt. unloved. undervalued. discredited.

and broken

s o broken

and i was speaking with this man i know

–i should know better than to speak about this type of thing with a man–

and it went like this

“this senate hearing today…”

“ahh, kavanaugh.”

“yeah, it’s been tough. hearing people’s responses…saying she’s a liar… it’s so personal for me.”

and then. he has the a u d a c i t y to be, well, a man, and start giving me his opinion

“i’m not going to say she’s a liar”

oh, here we go…

“people will believe whoever they want to. the evidence against him isn’t compelling.”

annnnnnd, we’re done here.

because it’s personal.

this hearing is much less about who’s right and who’s wrong, who’s telling the truth and who’s a liar. this is more so about the the precedence this sets for all women and children and men who need to share their experiences and have been silenced by people who are more concerned about what they were wearing than they are about their heart.

i’ve been deconstructing my faith a lot over the past year.

and then i watch christians i know and was raised amongst all over social media. and i remember why.

“she’s a liar.”

“she’s just angry that hillary lost the election.”

“the dem’s are paying her so kavanaugh won’t be on the supreme court and people will still be able to kill their babies.”

–don’t get me s t a r t e d on what this means in terms of being pro-life–

and then i see the results of a recent poll conducted by NPR/PBS.

“48% of white evangelical christians said kavanaugh should be confirmed even if he did assault dr. ford, even though that would mean he is lying about it today.”

annnnd then i find a bathroom and throw up everything inside me

and i deconstruct my faith all over again

because all i know is one thing:

you are not for me

you don’t believe me. you don’t care for me. my experiences mean very little to you. the matters of my heart are meaningless. you don’t care about my health, physically or mentally.

you don’t want justice for me. you don’t care to support me. you aren’t willing to stand up for me.

i would have been better off had i not said anything at all.

my brokenness is not important to you.

and i am entirely convinced that you do not know love.

you cannot know love. you cannot know love if you cannot see pain. you cannot know love if you cannot support your sisters and brothers who have had their basic human rights stripped of them. you cannot know love if you cannot see how vital it is that we look into the eyes of the hurting and broken and see their pain, and then choose to support only the things that will bring us personal gain.

you are the priest, looking at pain and turning your head away. you are the levite, taking the long way home to avoid helping the broken.

and why am i even surprised.

i understand how cynical this may sound to you. and if reading this pisses you off? you’re probably a part of the problem.

this week, our senate proved that my consent matters much less than political gain. this week, our senate and our country bashed a woman for coming forward with details about the single most embarrassing, violating, and world-altering experience she will ever endure, just to prove to all of us exactly why she chose to remain silent for over 30 years.

this week, our society tried to take away every safe space that ever existed to speak freely and openly about our experiences with sexual assault.

i cling onto the hope that justice will always win.

i just pray i’m around to see it.

this week has taken the biggest toll on me.

i feel undervalued. unloved. hurt. broken. invalidated.

so I’ll just watch svu for hours on end and immerse myself in a world where survivors get justice and rapists get punished.

i just wish that world was mine.

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