Melania and the Blood Red Trees : An Open Letter to Melania Trump

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Photo by Chip Somodevilla/Getty Images

Dear Melania,

I’m taking your Christmas décor as a cry for help. I’m taking those rows of blood red trees, standing sentry like the Handmaids all in a row as a sign. I’m taking this display as a show of support and a desperate plea for us to heed your warning. I’m taking them as a battle cry.

I think of you often. I am equal parts angry at you and terribly frightened for you since day one of your husband’s “presidency.” I wanted to be angry. You are a bird in a gilded cage who chose her enslavement and signed up for it knowingly and wittingly. As much as any woman can in our world.

But I can’t. You couldn’t have known. No one could have known. Yes, your husband is an oaf and a fool and a disaster at business. He is pompous with no right to be. He was handed everything he has or had. The only thing he has done all on his own is lose it all. He lost what could be a brilliant fortune with proper advisors and his being “in charge” as nothing more than a figurehead.

I can’t imagine, though, that you could have known how vicious and evil he is. How little regard he had for human life; how free he would be with the country’s money, the people’s money; how reckless he would be with his words both in person and online.

You may have signed up for being arm candy, for being thought of only as a trophy, for being expected to keep your appearance flawless and your pretty little mouth shut. You may have signed up to put up with this laughable boar.

But I don’t believe you signed up for this.

I don’t believe you signed up to stand beside a mentally ill man who thinks he’s fooling people with his combover over and Cheetos spray tan while he gaslights a nation and lies. And lies. And lies. I don’t believe you signed up to help aid a pitiful fool.

A gorgeous possession, absolutely. But never a complicit partner in the ugliest administration in history spearhead by a man who thought he would be a dictator and allowed Russia to steal the election away from its rightful winner so he could play boy king.

I don’t believe you want to see children gassed and caged. I don’t believe you think raking will keep our forests from burning. I don’t believe you think the gay and lesbian community should be erased. I don’t believe you think we need Space Force or that Global Warming is a liberal plot. I don’t believe you have no regard for human life, for humanity, for the world, for truth.

I believe your husband is a monster and I believe that you now know that too.

Photo by BENOIT TESSIER / POOL / AFP) (Photo credit should read BENOIT TESSIER/AFP/Getty Images

So, I see your blood red trees as a sign, as a flag, as a banner. They are indeed the Handmaid’s all in a row. But I also believe that they are a warning from you to us. A warning that your husband’s dream is Gilead.

What I see are rows of women with weapons beneath their cloaks and I see you leading the charge. Because thus far you have failed us miserably. But I believe you are finally waking up as the stakes grow higher. You kept your mouth shut far too long. But we are prepared to forgive and welcome you to the resistance.

Because you may be the prettiest bird in the most gilded of all the cages. But so too are you a woman. A strong, powerful woman whose woman’s heart and whose woman’s soul knows that it is our charge, always our charge to protect the people and the planet.

So thank you, Melania. Thank you for the trees. We are arming ourselves as we speak. We are arming ourselves with our votes and our voices and our bodies en masse in the streets. Thank you for the signal. Our takeover begins. Here’s to a victory won without bloodshed.

For women are rising and we are changing the game. We will overthrow. We will overpower. We will sit in the seats of power and demand our country be led with justice and humanity as our guides. And your husband will step down and abide. He and the men who worship him will abide.

Our time has come. Thank you for being the messenger. And now we rise.

Blessed be,

Jenny

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