The Morning-After Pill

You know you have to take it because, well, it’s the morning after and mistakes were made last night. But you don’t want to. Because you know that taking the pill will solidify what took place. You’ll be admitting the mistake.

It’s not easy walking in to the store, is it? Hanging your head a little. Maybe pulling up your collar or keeping your shades on so as not to be recognized. But you have to do it. You have to roll in to the pharmacy section. But, you’re not going to give your position away by just walking to that aisle. Nope.

You meander in the shampoo section, picking up a bottle and reading ingredients that you give no fux about. You stroll over to the cards and wonder if you should buy one while you’re here. You grab one by happenstance and then walk as if you had no purpose but deep down you do.

The aisle is filled with things that you normally buy. Tampons, pads, pantiliners. The regular feminine items that we are already shamed with. You barely look at the package. You barely register that there might be more than one brand. You grab it from your periphery and head to the counter to pay while grabbing another item you don’t even need in order to mask the mistake before running to your car.

You don’t take the pill in your car because again, that’d be admitting the mistake, right? Driving home you rationalize it to yourself. What you did. The consequences of your actions. But it’s okay! It. Is. Okay. For God’s sake! You live in the good ol’ U S of A and you can buy this pill. This pill that will take your worries away. That will definitely erase the thing that you did. And no one has to know.

I wonder if that’s what 53% of white women are feeling today. How are they justifying giving the Presidency of these United States to a megalomaniac and tyrant who doesn’t really care about them? I wonder.

And before you get on your high horse, don’t step into my spaces and center yourself by telling me that you didn’t vote for him or that you were outchea wearing that pantsuit. Don’t.

Here’s why: I know some AMAZING white women that have put in blood, sweat and tears for the cause. These women wake up and do the work day in and day out. I’m additionally pissed off on their behalf that they have to now be associated witcho ass for making this happen. Don’t center yourself in that argument.

Don’t walk into the store (aka social spaces or office) and act like you didn’t make that mistake last night. OWN IT. Stand up, sister. You used your voice in a way that you thought needed to be used, right?

Tell me, what are we going to do now? What happens now? How is this resolved?

Because the thing is, that unlike a night of hawt amazing secks, you didn’t just get yourself fucked, you got us all fucked right along with you. Minus all the good and amazing feelings that should go along with that. And we can’t hide from that as easily as you can disguise yourself in the spaces you occupy.

No, I am not interested in you breaking down the minority vote. I’ve seen the numbers. I’m interested in you taking this pill this morning, without regret. Tell me why?!

And you better hurry up because if things go the way that Trump is saying it’s going to go, that morning after pill might not be available for much longer.