Didn’t We Almost Have It All

                          Jim Lo Scalzo/EPA

When I arrived home in the wee hours of Wednesday morning after Donald Trump won the presidential election, but not the popular vote; all I heard was Whitney singing:

Didn’t we almost have it all
When love was all we had worth giving?
The ride with you was worth the fall my friend
Loving you makes life worth living
Didn’t we almost have it all
The night we held on till the morning
You know you’ll never love that way again
Didn’t we almost have it all

Didn’t we? Didn’t we almost have an example. Didn’t we almost have an advocate. Didn’t we almost have a woman that wasn’t tossed out, rendered useless after her prime. Didn’t we almost have the power. Didn’t we almost control our bodies. Didn’t we almost break the glass ceiling. Didn’t we almost say, unequivocally, women matter. Didn’t love almost trump hate. Didn’t we almost lean in. Didn’t we almost not have to work twice as hard for half as much. Didn’t we almost not have to tell our daughters, “he won.”

Didn’t we almost say, “a good man isn’t just hard to find, he does not exist” plan accordingly.

Didn’t we almost rise above a racist, sexist, homophobic, anti-semitic white supremacy. Didn’t pussy almost grab back. Didn’t we almost listen to Black women. Didn’t we almost believe our white friends would protect us.

Didn’t we almost not repeat the Salem witch trials. Didn’t we almost not threaten a woman with violence to shut her up. Didn’t we almost believe her.

Didn’t we almost recognize he’s half the man, and she’s more than a woman.

Didn’t we almost avoid telling her she was “asking for it.” Didn’t we almost believe women deserve privacy—that, in fact, a “public and private life” is a thing all of us maintain. Except for women.

Didn’t we almost believe that if you’re qualified, you’ll win.

Didn’t we almost not tell her to smile more. Didn’t we almost not feel threatened. Didn’t we almost not have to bake cookies as a duty. Didn’t we almost let her keep Rodham; and her glasses; and her brown, mousy hair. Didn’t we almost let her be smart. Didn’t we almost not hate women.

Didn’t we almost not cry.

She couldn’t, though. And she did not.

It’s about time our daughters know the truth, and the truth is almost.

A mess has been made, and we’ll do what we’ve always done, survive. This is the story of women’s lives. We almost had it all.

 

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