Yes, something inspired my post this morning. I have hemmed and hawed about whether to express at all. If I express myself I am fighting against something? If I don’t I am silencing my own voice. But I am entitled to an opinion and a viewpoint of life just like everyone else. So, I’m going to tell you all some things about me.
I feel to the depths of my being that being free from censorship and cancellation is the foundation for any other freedom that someone might want for their lives or the lives of their fellow citizens. I have witnessed, and I have been subject to, that freedom being taken away over the past 4 years. It has disturbed me and it has saddened me and I have sat quietly through most of it for fear of being ridiculed, labeled, and discriminated against. That includes personally, on social media, and at work. Without the foundation of open debate and discussion, my views, wants, and needs were never heard. I should have never allowed myself to be silenced, but seeing lost jobs, bank accounts being frozen, and strife among friends and family caused me to choose silence. While I felt a sigh of relief on November 5, I am still scarred. It may take me a minute to be comfortable again. I am not comfortable writing this now.
My body my choice is a fallacy in today’s world. No one gave me and countless others a choice to take a vaccine. I was threatened with my job, I was told I was contagious when I wasn’t even sick, I was told I was a danger, that I was selfish, and many other things. I learned to keep quiet about it…but I could not because I was forced to wear a mask at work so I essentially wore a Scarlet Letter. I was not sick. The evidence that masks do not work and cause more harm than good was ignored. The theory behind vaccinations preventing illness was ignored and somehow I was the dangerous one. I was one of the very few who received a religious exemption and I thank the universe for that one. I lost hair from the stress and I was facing losing my home and everything else that my paycheck provides for me. Don’t get me started on the prospect of a Digital ID to show my vaccine status. I am scarred from this and I will never, ever forget it.
I believe in abortion but I do not believe in it after a certain point. We need to find that happy medium and support people who were sexually abused or have dire medical conditions. A fetus is not a baby, and at which point it is might be debatable but there should be a way for us to support young people who made mistakes (early on). I’m fine with tracking how many someone has had because it should not be birth control. No more reckless abandon. We should also be holding men more accountable for what they do with their sperm. There is never a stigma on the males, and there should not be a stigma on anyone but they are also responsible so let’s hold them accountable. Let’s also support life after birth. I think Bobby Kennedy is trying to do that and I am tickled that he is going to play a role in our world very soon.
And lastly, I am strongly opposed to any physical intervention to modify the body in persons under age 25. Did you know what you wanted for the rest of your life before that age? I didn’t. I still don’t but I’m mature enough to know that. This is why I don’t have a tattoo 🙂 For the record, I’m perfectly fine with and encourage you to allow your boys to wear dresses and your girls to play with trucks IF THEY WANT TO. They are experimenting with life and allowing them the freedom to do so is allowing them to find their own way. And if – and when – they change their mind no harm was done. You can’t regrow body parts and it is irresponsible for adults to encourage or allow this type of behavior with children. Children rely on adults for protection. So go out there and pull up your big girl pants and protect the sanctity of childhood. And adults, you can go on as you damn well please with your bodies and lifestyle because you are adults.
Yes I mentioned lifestyle. I mean sex and openly discussing and engaging in sexual activity. I had enough of that as a young child with a heterosexual parent and it did not enrich my childhood. It made me feel disgusting and vulnerable and I would never want that for my child. And she didn’t have that. She was innocent and spectacular because I allowed her to grow up at her own pace. That’s one thing I am proud of.
I am still angry, and I am still scarred. And I still miss Erin. But I can freely express it, so that is something.
