Op-ed views and opinions expressed are solely those of the author and do not necessarily represent the views of BizPac Review.
If we’ve learned anything at all in the wake of Donald Trump’s massive electoral thumping of Democratic foe Hillary Clinton last month, it’s one immutable fact:
Snowflakes gonna snowflake…
Sure, maybe they all think alike, but liberals deal with their grief in various ways, of course. Some hide in their safe spaces. Others take to the streets, even blocking traffic on occasion. Unfortunately, far too few are following through on their promise to move to Canada.
One Washington Post writer, however, has taken her grief to a whole other level – eschewing men!
In a column published Monday, Stephanie Land writes of her various dating attempts leading up to the election. She finally began a promising relationship with someone but it all came crashing down, not because the guy turned out to be a closet Trump supporter, but apparently because the fact that her gal Hillary won’t be president has apparently crushed her desire for men entirely.
You’d think it would be the other way around!
“Two days later,” Land writes, “the other of those good dates called me out of the blue. We talked for a while, and I asked him to dinner. Things were falling into place. A feast was laid out on the table, and it looked delicious. But two weeks later, the election happened. Once it was clear that Donald Trump would be president instead of Hillary Clinton, I felt sick to my stomach.”
Land describes several ‘heartbreaking’ moments, such as how disappointed her daughter was that America didn’t elect its first female president and how she was “a little scared to send her to school, out into the big sky country of the red state where we live.”
Yeah, because those “red states” are just hotbeds of crime and depravity.
After tears are shed by all, she then arrives at her conclusion:
…That urge to cling to my family while keeping our foundation strong didn’t mesh well with continuing to date the man I’d been seeing. He also has a daughter. He, too, had been feeling a lot of the same emotions I was experiencing: hopelessness; fear; uncertainty about the future; panic over having to talk to my 9-year-old about anything that might come up at school, or what to do in the instance of sexual assault. But I couldn’t reach out to him anymore. He was too new, too unfamiliar.
My focus had to be on my community of friends that are my family. I need to fiercely love the people close to me instead of learning to love someone new. To reach out to others could weaken the bonds that hold my family together.
“I can’t,” I told him. “I just can’t.”
I’ve lost the desire to attempt the courtship phase. The future is uncertain. I am not the optimistic person I was on the morning of Nov. 8, wearing a T-shirt with “Nasty Woman” written inside a red heart. It makes me want to cry thinking of that. Of seeing my oldest in the shirt I bought her in Washington, D.C., that says “Future President.”
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