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IN THE RING

Updated on November 12, 2016

IN THE RING

I hate being sucker punched to the ropes. Three days, mind you, from 10:00 pm on the 8th when the trajectory for the loss became apparent, through the next 72 hours when my social media friends and followers decided to pummel me with every human feeling on Earth.

The grace exhibited by Hillary's Clinton's Facebook's posting of her concession speech. She wiped the slate clean about any character deficiencies as she displayed more in this one defeat than all her previous victories.

The pride in Donald Trump's tweet, "Just had a very open and successful presidential election." He bantered our disdain for one another like it was idle chit chat over tea, now let's see if he possesses the qualities to reunite us through insightful discussion.

The elation espoused by former high school classmates, manager, staff, community volunteers, citizens, and women club friends because as they said in very public posts "the chains were finally off after eight years" to spew the scorn they felt for me. I was not born a liberal and have never been an elitist. My failures necessitated adaptability in viewpoint and behavior. My successes rank about average. I'm a local government manager and writer, which together bring in around $78,000 a year. As to me calling anyone stupid, how can someone my age with all my debt call anyone stupid?

To the gun owners, until you posted, I didn't even know you owned a gun, much less wanted to take it away from you.

To my former manager and staff, I did my best to make sure you received your full pension while working to get the city's employee fund out of a distressed level. When I had time, that is, because I've also been busy trying to remediate the mold out of a municipal building and rebuild it.

To former high school friends, I didn't talk to you back in high school. but I didn't speak to anyone outside of my two best friends. The reasons are many: weight, acne, hair, introverted personality, but I think most of all I was ashamed. Everyone else seemed to have a Dad home every night and a Mom who made breakfast. My dad was gone most all nights on business and Mom either drunk or depressed stayed in her room.

The self-righteous in my son’s post, "I was never so sorry to be right." Your teachers and I coddled you and your millennial friends as if your talents were the rarest of gems. But through that process, we created egotistical individuals who believe their opinions are the map rather than just a speck on it. I wonder as a second grader how you would have handled coming into your classroom after lunch to see your teacher heaved over on her desk. Would your entire class have circled her, be humble enough to whisper what was wrong, exhibiting compassion by stroking her hand? And when she raised her blood shut eyes and muttered, "The President is dead," the thoughtfulness to walk back to your desk or would you demand she continue to mentor as always on a one-to-one basis?

The irreverence found in a female government colleague’s comment, "No one gets how this affects me! My BFFS and me are achievers!" I guess you didn't get the memo that Hillary Clinton is a woman and a baby boomer to boot. And we female baby boomers quietly achieve not splay mundane accomplishments such as brushing our teeth on Facebook. The first of which was charging into old boy's clubs wearing pantsuits to prove we were just as capable as any of them to do the job. We were inspired to do this by the civil rights movement, Viet Nam, Cold War, along with three American leaders’ assassinations all before we entered high school. Plus wanted you and your BFFs to get top ranking government jobs easier and wearing princess dresses.

The fear exposed by a cerebral writer's post, "If only the DNC had not stolen Bernie's nomination, I wouldn't be thinking of moving to Canada." Your wistfulness is similar to your writing aspirations. Step out from the dream of the perfect situation to the imperfect one of critique. That's the difference between being an observer or participant-having the guts to get your heart broken time and time again.

To the sadness of so many posts, comments, and replies, they are too vast to list. I feel each tear and hear each sob. And I'm unlike the spiritual seekers who have messengered me every day this week stating how they need to stay away from sadness, anger, judgment and blame. They want to maintain their high vibration. Well, I'm here to announce, I’m human, American, and due to both those facts want to be in the ring with you, as we figure out how "me" becomes "we."

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