I Hope I Want To Vote For Donald Trump In 2020

I Hope I Want To Vote For Donald Trump In 2020

Because I want him to prove me wrong.
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I did not vote for Donald Trump this election. Because of his crude words, his mocking of the disabled, his promise to build walls, 90% of his policy and the fact that he is a reality TV star and a businessman and not a politician, I begrudgingly cast my vote for Hillary Clinton. In 2016, I would not and did not select Mr. Trump's name on the ballot.

As of now, Donald Trump stands for thousands of things I don't believe in. As of now, I think Donald Trump's presidency will only benefit those who need no more benefits. I believe his stances, his beliefs, and his policies will divide us. I do not believe he stands for equality. Donald Trump has been accused of sexually assaulting women and admitted to doing such things. He mocked a disabled reporter. His presence in the highest seat in the country enables racist, homophobic, sexist and xenophobic rhetoric and actions from those who support him. I don't like Donald Trump as a man, and I do not like Donald Trump as my president.

But I want to. Lord, I want to. I've seen the metaphor, "why would you want him to fail? He's the pilot of a plane we are all on, wanting him to fail is like wanting a pilot to crash." But the question that begs is... Why do you need a metaphor? I don't need to see him as a pilot or a captain or anything other than a president to hope he does not fail. The US doesn't need to be a plane or a ship for me to understand why you shouldn't hope for your president to fail. Progress, lives, futures and so many more things are on the line in these next 4 years. I do not like him. But I do not want him to fail because he is the president of the country that we all, like it or not, reside in.

I've been very outspoken about my dislike for the president. And I don't intend to stop. I've been public about my political stance and have received backlash. I am sure there are hundreds of people who will say, "told you so" if Trump succeeds. And to that I say, okay. You told me so. You were right, I was wrong. Not only will I be okay with being wrong, I am hoping that I will be wrong. I am looking forward to people telling me they told me so.

I want Donald Trump to be the best president we have ever had. I want him to unite our nation. I want him to profusely apologize for the immensely offensive actions he made during and before his candidacy and actively work to improve relationships with those groups of people he attacked and offended. I want him to fight vehemently for the rights of all people, even those who's existence he doesn't understand or agree with. I want him to leave the Oval Office better than he found it.

Donald Trump will always be allowed to have his opinions. I do not want him to magically become liberal or neglect all of his conservative policies, because I appreciate and respect those who stand firmly in their beliefs. I simply want his conservative policies to be enacted without stripping rights away from anyone and without attacking anyone. Like it or not, we have a republican commander-in-chief, and all those on the left can hope is that those republican beliefs are enacted with respect and minimal harm.

I do not like Donald Trump. Himself and his administration taking over our country is frightening to me, and vastly more frightening to millions of people who don't have the privileges that I realize I do. But for the sake of our country and its people, I truly hope I am proven wrong. I hope everyone who believed in him is right. And he has a monumental amount of work to do to get there, but I truly hope Donald Trump becomes the president, and the man, that I would feel comfortale casting my vote for in 2020. And he has a long way to go.

Please, prove me wrong.

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6 Things You Should Know About The Woman Who Can't Stand Modern Feminism

Yes, she wants to be heard too.

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2018 is sort of a trap for this woman. She believes in women with all of the fire inside of her, but it is hard for her to offer support when people are making fools of themselves and disguising it as feminism.

The fact of the matter is that women possess qualities that men don't and men possess qualities that women don't. That is natural. Plus, no one sees men parading the streets in penis costumes complaining that they don't get to carry their own fetus for nine months.

1. She really loves and values women.

She is incredibly proud to be a woman.

She knows the amount of power than a woman's presence alone can hold. She sees when a woman walks into a room and makes the whole place light up. She begs that you won't make her feel like a "lady hater" because she doesn't want to follow a trend that she doesn't agree with.

2. She wants equality, too

She has seen the fundamental issues in the corporate world, where women and men are not receiving equal pay.

She doesn't cheer on the businesses that don't see women and men as equivalents. But she does recognize that if she works her butt off, she can be as successful as she wants to.

3. She wears a bra.

While she knows the "I don't have to wear a bra for society" trend isn't a new one, but she doesn't quite get it. Like maybe she wants to wear a bra because it makes her feel better. Maybe she wears a bra because it is the normal things to do... And that's OK.

Maybe she wants to put wear a lacy bra and pretty makeup to feel girly on .a date night. She is confused by the women who claim to be "fighting for women," because sometimes they make her feel bad for expressing her ladyhood in a different way than them.

4. She hates creeps just as much as you do. .

Just because she isn't a feminist does not mean that she is cool with the gruesome reality that 1 in 5 women are sexually abused.

In fact, this makes her stomach turn inside out to think about. She knows and loves people who have been through such a tragedy and wants to put the terrible, creepy, sexually charged criminals behind bars just as bad as the next woman.

Remember that just because she isn't a feminist doesn't mean she thinks awful men can do whatever they want.

5. There is a reason she is ashamed of 2018's version of feminism.

She looks at women in history who have made a difference and is miserably blown away by modern feminism's performance.

Not only have women in the past won themselves the right to vote, but also the right to buy birth control and have credit cards in their names and EVEN saw marital rape become a criminal offense.

None of them dressed in vagina costumes to win anyone over though... Crazy, right?

6. She isn't going to dress in a lady parts costume to prove a point.

This leaves her speechless. It is like the women around her have absolutely lost their minds and their agendas, only lessening their own credibility.

"Mom, what are those ladies on TV dressed up as?"

"Ummm... it looks to me like they are pink taco's honey."

She loves who she is and she cherished what makes her different from the men around her. She doesn't want to compromise who she is as a woman just so she can be "equal with men."

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I've Had PTSD, And I'll Be The First To Say I Did Not Need A Gun While I Was Sick

My opinion on gun control not from my political opinions, but from my experiences as a mentally ill person.

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On November 7th, 2018, a gunman armed with a .45-caliber Glock handgun walked into Borderline Bar & Grill in Thousand Oaks, California and killed 12 people.

In addition to the 11 slain and 18 injured in the bar, the gunman killed a sheriff's sergeant responding to the 911 call before committing suicide.

The gunman was Ian David Long, a former U.S. Marine apparently suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder.

While all of the 307 mass shootings that make it onto the news make my soul ache, this one particularly hit home for me for two reasons.

One: I lived in California for about five years and had indeed spent time in the area.

Two: these atrocities were committed by someone of whom PTSD had gotten the better of.

Having had PTSD for 15 years myself, it baffles me that he had a legally-owned gun at all.

I know first-hand how much anger can develop when this disorder is left unchecked, and violence is the most delicious release from it all.

From self-harm to physical fighting in school, I looked for any way to curb my appetite for destruction. As soon as my body sensed an opportunity to expel some of my pent-up aggression on someone who'd even mildly taunted the beast, my brain would enter into a hazy fog of emotion and a nothing-to-lose attitude. My fight-or-flight was constantly engaged, and I really had never been much of a runner.

I felt like my temper was a bottle rocket that could be set off at any moment and I had next to no control over whether or not I reacted. I remember loving the power of people being afraid of me and relishing in my ability to win at all costs, especially if it were in defense of myself or someone who needed help.

Since the opportunities to let my feelings out physically were few and far between, my brain provided a platform for the rest of them without an outlet. The majority of my life, I was plagued with violent fantasies as much––if not more––than the sexual ones, which should've been my sole focus as a horny teenager.

In these fantasies, I would be defending myself and others from unknown assailants, escaping from situations where I was being detained as a sex slave, or else exacting revenge on someone who'd wronged me. Every movement of the altercation I would replay over and over again in my head until it was almost a memory.

These fantasies bordered on an obsession while I suffered from paranoia. Every waking and even unconscious moment was filled with the absolute certainty that someone was waiting behind the corner to physically assault or rape me, and I would not entertain the idea of letting that happen.

I used to boast that the next time someone attacked me, only one of us would come out of it alive.

I imagined these him-or-me altercations constantly—before I went to sleep, day-dreaming in class or else in places where I felt especially uneasy—and sometimes the story lines would continue on all week until they finished off with me emerging victorious.

Every fantasy would not be considered complete until I had won and gone insane. For some reason, my brain rationalized that as soon as the inevitable attack came and everyone became aware of it, my mind could finally be at rest.

These fantasies were so intense that I would have physical reactions to them. I was basically powerless to shut them down once my imagination got going, so I would sweat excessively, tremble with anticipation and sometimes even laugh out loud with the adrenaline they inspired. It got to the point where I could actually taste the iron in my mouth, as if my body was already preparing for the taste of blood.

This mindset didn't come without an intense fascination in weapons. My fantasies would include actual weapons, random items I employed in resourcefulness to defend myself or merely fighting to the death with my bare hands.

I collected the few I could afford at the time and ached for the days when I could own my own gun. I had never fired one, but I was entranced by the idea of owning the ultimate fighting utensil; an end-all to any threats that may come my way, with the power to take a life at the tip of my finger.

My gravitation towards violence ended after two years of recovering from PTSD. One day I realized I hadn't thought about it in a while, and just like that, the freakish obsession I'd harbored since childhood was gone.

I experienced all of this, yet the trauma that provided me with the disorder didn't have one single thing to do with guns.

So why on the Goddess' green earth did an ex-machine gunner, who developed his PTSD from shooting people, have legal access to one?

Though California does have a law asserting that families concerned with their loved ones' safety can request their guns be taken away for a period of time, this was not enough to spare the lives of those 12 innocent people that Wednesday night.

I shiver at the thought of what would've happened if I had gotten my hands on a gun when I had wanted one. So based on my expertise, neither Long nor anyone else with PTSD has any business owning a gun.

Who better to weigh in on these issues than the ones posing an obvious threat?

Yet, even after this testimony of how much I wanted to pull the trigger at one point, there will still be people who insist on loading the bullets and cocking it for me.

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