Thursday, July 28, 2016

#MyNextPresident


It started with a Facebook post from my friend Lauryl Wagoner.

            #MyNextPresident has had blood-stained underwear.”
           
It’s seemingly a throwaway line, but when I reflected on it for a moment, I found that it just about knocked me over. No other president has experienced a menstrual period, month in, month out, sometimes frighteningly late, and sometimes, near the end, wildly sporadic.

And there is so much more that no president has ever experienced. This realization is not, actually, a partisan moment; it’s a deeply human one. We’re all along for the ride at this important—and ridiculously tardy—moment in history. 

At any rate, I started a thread and encouraged my friends to join in. My first offering:

#MyNextPresident has peeled her shin like a carrot while shaving her legs.

Barack hasn’t. Three different Georges didn’t. No Abe, no Bill. Hillary alone has pulled skin from her Daisy—just like me.
            
Look, I know it’s pretty personal and not necessarily appropriate to think about a candidate in such a personal way. But I feel a personal connection with Hillary Rodham Clinton. I suspect a lot of people who identify as a woman feel the exact same way.
            
So far, a Facebook post and a Twitter hashtag have resulted in very little trolling, but I expect it eventually. Some people don’t value women; some of those people are women. But I feel exuberant that the person I believe will win in November is someone who has fretted over things her body does, and has been sized up as a mom, and has worked to look something like society says she should look. And she’s taken some licks for it—the headbands, the pantsuits—even more than the rest of us.
            
Pardon me if I embrace and revel in sisterhood, even if it’s imagined sisterhood.

Some more observations:

#MyNextPresident has bought something she didn't need so she wouldn't seem like she was on a tampon run.

#MyNextPresident has ripped out a small clump of lashes because she got in a hurry with her eyelash curler.

#MyNextPresident has worn Spanx.

#MyNextPresident may occasionally pee a little when she laughs.

#MyNextPresident has self-administered the pencil test.

As a child, #MyNextPresident briefly experimented with dotting her I's with a heart, then quickly came to her senses.

#MyNextPresident has taken store-bought cookies to the bake sale, but in her defense, they were really nice cookies.

#MyNextPresident is glad she's old enough that she never had to worry about thigh gap.

#MyNextPresident has tried the cabbage soup diet.

#MyNextPresident perfected the art of typing one-handed with a baby in her other arm.

#MyNextPresident has had to wash a spot out of her good sheets.

Like me, #MyNextPresident prefers flats.

#MyNextPresident has perfected the art of removing her bra through her sleeve at the end of the day.

#MyNextPresident feels more at ease in a swimsuit with a skirt.

#MyNextPresident has gone to an event too dressy or too casual while Bill got away with wearing the same damned suit.

MyNextPresident has been badgered into attending a Pampered Chef/Tupperware/Decorama/lingerie party and bought the smallest thing.

Someone has had the nerve to tell #MyNextPresident she should smile more. She just looks so pretty when she smiles ...

#MyNextPresident has asked a friend to check the back of her pants.

A few hundred posts later, my friends and even strangers have contributed their own. A few of my favorites:

Karin Wraley Barbee:

#MyNextPresident has handed a rolled up ball of toilet paper to the stranded woman in the next stall.

#MyNextPresident sang R.E.S.P.E.C.T. at a stoplight.

#MyNextPresident popped open a can/egg of L'eggs pantyhose and very carefully pulled them over her toes, calves, and lower thighs before realizing there was no way those things were making it all the way up.

Dawn Hubbell-Staeble:

#MyNextPresident has coughed, sneezed, or laughed so hard she's peed herself a little.

#MyNextPresident has walked to her car with her keys between her knuckles … just in case

Christina Burgy Fisanick Greer:

#MyNextPresident  has covertly sniffed her underarm while riding in an elevator to a meeting.

Heidi Czerwiec:

#MyNextPresident has worried about panty lines.

#MyNextPresident has wondered if her nipples are weird.

Kelly Morse:

#MyNextPresident has stored cash in her bra because she didn't want to take a purse to the bar.

#MyNextPresident  wanted to show what she was capable of, but instead was tasked with organizing the annual Easter egg hunt.

#MyNextPresident has had her colors done by a friend selling Mary Kay products.

I have absolutely loved watching tweets come in at #MyNextPresident. Join us?

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