Holy fucking fuck.
I don’t even have the words.
We have literally walked into a trainwreck.
And we’ve invited our own terror train right along for the ride, now.
But we’re calling shit by its appropriate name, and we’re making changes.
But the roller coaster goes on.
There is not time for breaks here.
Meeting at the boys’ apartment at eight this morning to discuss the wood. I wake up with a half real, half convenient headache in the morning- because I’m done with this shit. And I want to see how the politics play out when I’m not there, being this advocate of safety and revolt.
And so I sleep. And sleep. And then around ten in the morning the meeting breaks, and the girls leave. And I hear the boys yelling.
“And they think they want gender equality? Look at this. They have all refused to do the work, and that’s left us guys with all of the grunt work. Gender equality…”
Motherfuckers. They have been hanging out taking “sick days” all year while we girls carried this team.
And Heather comes into my room, demanding answers even though I texted her that I had a migraine. And she tells me, just so you know, if you are ethically, or safety-wise opposed to the things that your job here entails, you have the option to quit.
She pauses for effect, and stares at me.
“This program is for doing things that you don’t necessarily want to do, and if you can’t do that, then you always have the option to leave. And what we need to do is use that wood.”
And I just stared at her.
“So you’re telling me to quit because I have a migraine?”
“I’m just saying that mental health days are great, but you’re going to have to deal with this at some point.”
“Heather. I have a goddamn physical headache.”
She continues to pressure me to get out there and work with the wood. And continues to make me feel like the biggest asshole in the world for not wanting to. And still not taking into account that I just don’t feel good.
I feel so alone, so isolated. I am up here at the top of the world, and the person who is supposed to be my advocate and my support is waging war against me in my bedroom.
I ask her, where are the girls? And she tells me.
I walk over to the community center, wearing my favorite jayhawk sweatpants, gray sweater and green parka.
I knock on the door, and the girls let me in with passion.
I realize I was never alone.
And then we fucking kill it. And have been killing it all day.
Let me tell you.
We are going to be something.
We are something.
I can’t even write this all right now. I have to go for a run. I love these ladies so much. We are a united front. We are absolutely becoming more empowered, far reaching and intuitively terrifying.
Long story cut short– we won.
We took this issue to the top, we took all of the overlapping and intersecting and mind boggling dynamics all the way to the top. And we were heard, and we were appreciated.