I have a lot of anger and frustration right now. My country, its citizens, people I work with…injustice all around.
I’m not sure where to begin. I don’t process any of these thoughts and feelings on Facebook as I don’t feel that is the appropriate venue for them.
I am not your typical black, female, liberal Democrat. I didn’t like President Obama and Michelle Obama wasn’t the greatest First Lady to have ever existed in my lifetime. (Hillary Clinton still takes the cake, in my opinion.)
I am not pro-choice/pro-abortion. “Family planning” is a misleading term as abortion or “the woman’s right to choose” usually involves the LACK of having a family. “Reproductive rights” is a misnomer. More like rights to NOT reproduce. Everything about being “pro-choice” is “anti-reproduction.”
The women’s march pissed me off considering that the official organizers had to put out a statement uninviting a pro-life organization and taking an official Pro-choice stance. This march no longer represented me or my voice. They claimed to but they did not. I had no say against Donald Trump and his administration and it was clear that because I believed in the sanctity of life on this ONE ISSUE, I would be shunned from this community of women.
And I don’t care to be part of this kind of political fellowship. If they don’t care to look past my political differences and embrace me, then fine, I’ll continue to move forward and work without them by my side.
Let’s keep lowering the abortion rate. With or without having Roe v. Wade overturned. Let’s make sure that we make sure women know about ALL available options to prevent pregnancies: birth control AND self-control. If pregnant, expecting moms should know that infertile couples are willing to sponsor women who want to give their babies up for adoption. Abortion doesn’t have to be the last resort or ONLY option for many women. In a majority of cases, we CAN choose life. Let’s continue to make life a first option and do all we can to ENCOURAGE it and not discourage it.
I can’t express my opinion about this administration because I’m not supposed to like it, right? And on the whole, so far, it isn’t great. But an executive order has been reinstated that ceases to give NGOs that perform abortions federal funding. And I’m happy about that. +1, President Trump. #conservativeliberal
I could list all the stuff Obama did that I’m unhappy about, especially as a lame duck (*cough*Palestinian money*Israel betrayal*drones*ending Cuban wet-foot/dry-foot policy*cough*). Lord knows there’s plenty of fodder for me to complain about Obama’s actions as president. I won’t even begin to question his motives.
I don’t expect Trump to be a good president. In fact, I’m afraid he will suck majorly. Even worse, I’m afraid he’ll do well enough for Middle America to win another 4 years but that the popular vote will not outweigh his electoral vote…again.
Trump’s opponents annoy me more than Trump himself. They were my biggest fear when I thought of the potential of a Hillary loss (which seemed so unlikely) and now it’s a nightmare realized.
Someone get me out of here.
I wish everyone got what they rightly deserved, especially when they worked hard for it. I hate to see people promised something and then get delayed, brushed aside, jerked around, and then left in the dust wondering what they did wrong and what they could’ve done better. Why do we play favorites? Why do we treat some people better than others? We know who works hard and who doesn’t. Why do the lazy get rewarded and the hardest toilers get stranded in the dust?
Being blackballed is a thing, it seems. And it makes me sad. I hope that redemption is still possible. One day…?
I know I’m speaking in vague generalities but I suppose I have to right now so specifics aren’t brought out. Also, I’m sort of “typing aloud,” letting my thoughts flow freely onto digital paper, so to speak.
Just really tired of injustice and oppression everywhere I turn. Sure, it’s not affecting ME personally but it’s affecting others I love and care about. This bothers me. And if I don’t stand up and say something for them, who will? Aren’t I in a position where I can do good for others and help those who need it?
“Learn to do good; seek justice, correct oppression; bring justice to the fatherless, plead the widow’s cause.” —Isaiah 1:17 (ESV)
I grew up in Long Island, New York close to the New York City metro area. I was raised to believe in making something of myself professionally. My father always wanted me to be able to support myself and not rely on anyone else.
Fast-forward to the second decade of this millennium and I am wholly reliant upon my husband to provide for me and my son. I am deathly afraid that if something were to happen to him that I would not be able to support myself. This makes me feel inadequate and incompetent. This makes me feel like a failure.
I’m kind of like a guy—I derive a sense of self-esteem and self-worth from working. Not having a full-time job kills me because I feel financially and emotionally deficient.
I wish I could say I grew up putting family first but I didn’t. I didn’t have a brother or sister to turn to and my parents buster their butts working to provide a decent life for me. My mother missed out on a lot of my school events and she had no idea that I was bullied in school. She also didn’t understand the depression I dealt with.
Family never came first. That’s the model that was set for me. In practicality, work came first. I was a latchkey kid for most of my childhood. I missed out on after-school activities, Girl Scouts, and other programs that other kids were able to take advantage of.
Academics were always important. My father felt as though the better I did in school, the more successful I’d be in life.
I hate to think it hasn’t translated that way but it hasn’t. I’m not as successful professionally as I’d like to be. I wish I could earn enough to help support my family—to afford a second car and help pay a mortgage. Even contribute as a partner to the rent. But no, I am wholly deficient. It’s hard for a creative type like me with a limited set of skills to make a lot of money. I wish I could.
My son needs to be my priority; he’s 3 months old. My husband needs to be priority; he’s family and loves me. But I can’t shake the need—the feeling that I am a colossal failure if I don’t help my family financially. I can’t help but feel like a colossal failure if I’m not putting my time and energy into a profession that either provides for my family or makes a difference.
And right now, I am doing none of those things.
I’m in a weird spiritual place right now. I’m not anti-God or even angry with Him. I just am. I just exist. But somehow He and I have a disconnect. I know God doesn’t want someone who is lukewarm and I am so lukewarm right now.
I know your works: you are neither cold nor hot. Would that you were either cold or hot! So, because you are lukewarm, and neither hot nor cold, I will spit you out of my mouth. For you say, I am rich, I have prospered, and I need nothing, not realizing that you are wretched, pitiable, poor, blind, and naked. —Revelation 3:15-17
I have the potential opportunity to work 3 jobs. Yes, THREE. I feel fortunate to be able to have work coming in this tough economy. But yes, I work as a freelance editor and proofreader for advertising agencies. That’s my niche; that’s my specialty. I accept it and embrace it. If you’ve read any of my previous posts, you might have noticed mistakes, errors, misspellings, typos. I really don’t edit my posts on this blog much, especially since I put most of my effort into my day job. On my professional blog (which I haven’t written for in quite a while), I double-check and triple-check my work before hitting the Publish button. But I allow myself this place—this space—to be imperfect and make mistakes since I feel the need to be at the top of my game in other areas.
I recently reviewed the resume that I used to obtain my current library position. After reviewing it, I realized that my resume wasn’t really all that impressive for position that I applied. What probably got the hiring manager (my current boss) to pick up the phone and call me for an interview was my cover letter.
The ad, from what I can recall, wanted an “enthusiastic, friendly, outgoing, and motivated” person to apply for the job. Trust me, I am all that and a bag of chips. (One of the few areas in which I am confident.) I had dreamed of being able to help patrons at the library desk since I was a library page at the tender age of 14. (smile) But my resume excelled in nothing but journalism and editorial experience. How in the world could I convince a hiring manager that someone who had a mostly solitary work experience background could translate into an energetic person who would “relish” (yes, I used that word) the opportunity to work with the public? Read more…