THANK YOU, DONALD TRUMP
Today in non-ironic titles, I want to thank Donald Trump wholeheartedly for this past year. Well, not wholeheartedly, that’s a stretch. But for so many of my friends and myself, 2017 was the game changer. Something about 2017 meant meeting a Demogorgon head-on, not only in the form of an unbalanced, unprepared and dangerous ruler but all the evils that surround him, both physically and metaphorically. These are strange days, people. But the world is changing, and the power we have to gain is all because of Donald Trump.
Before we begin, as I’ve mentioned in previous Heauxs adventures, I am *not* a fan of Donald J. Trump. The alarm bell rang deep inside way back in the Republican primaries of '16 and most of my friends and family thought he was a joke candidate (Dear John Kasich: what are you up to, buddy? I miss you.) Then when it was Clinton v. Trump, I thought Hill had it in the bag (Again, see: Heauxs). But, like so many others, I was wrong (except for, well, the popular vote, but that's another story for another time.) I spent the latter months of 2016 in an emotional bunker trying to figure out what this loss meant for myself, my family, and for my two young daughters. Then I heard the rumblings of The Women's March and got my ass to Washington, D.C.
I flew into D.C. solo and the march weekend ended up being one of the best of my life. It was both bananas and humbling to walk in solidarity with millions across the globe. But the best thing about the year since The Women's March is how the momentum hasn't stopped, not for the movement or myself.
Some of my changes came around in part by being concerned that the apocalypse is indeed nigh (at the time of me writing this Trump and Kim Jong Un are *literally* squabbling over who's nuke button is more bigly. JESUS CHRIST JUST BRING ME ALL THE ICE CREAM). To be fair, the apocalypse is my irrational fear, or my own personal Demogorgon if you will. I'm not religious, and I know I'm most likely going to die in old age pissing off my kids, but apocalypse predictions freak me out. I was so scared of the 2012 Mayan calendar, guys. But I digress.
Once you realize a truly insane person is in charge of all the weapons, your own anxiety and depression aren't that big of a deal anymore. Same goes for ambition. I could lie here scared of success and the world at large, or I could go out and try because we might all actually be dead soon. In a non-ironic way. Again: see nuke buttons. As Aaliyah once said, "If at first you don't succeed, dust yourself off and try again." I'm sure she wasn't inferring nuclear dust, but hell, if I try and I don't succeed, and we all get hit by nukes, NOBODY KNOWS THE DIFFERENCE. I can’t believe it took me this long to figure it out.
Once I went all Dr. Strangelove and learned to love the bomb, this pansy ass girl:
• traveled cross-country to participate in one of our nation's largest protests
• started a stand-up comedy troupe in my town
• made lifelong friends and connections with amazing comics coming through the show
• got out on the road and brought comedy and storytelling training to businesses
• organized and executed a political data-driven newsletter
• shouted my #metoo
• stood taller, kicked ass and took names
None of this would have been possible without Donald Trump. He's the Demogorgon I needed to kick me in the face, ask me to put my money where my mouth is, to challenge me to go out and live my life. As someone who's been fighting anxiety and depression off and on since I was a kid, this is a big deal. Until now, it's been too easy for me to hide. But hell, even I know my button's more bigly than his. So, thanks, Don, for everything. You're the best*.