Dear Donald,

Can I say Donald? I, by no means, would want to make you uncomfortable or step on your male privilege.

I, just like you, cannot stand this media anymore. How dare they release tapes from 11 years ago? Good lord, don’t they know you’re a changed man from the ignorant age of 59? Eleven years ago, you were still in the spotlight, still in the real estate industry, and still a crooked businessman.

This media keeps feeding into you and frankly, I am over it. I am truly exhausted. I am tired of your face plastered throughout my never-ending social media feeds. I am tired of your name in capital letters headlining newspapers. I am tired of you always being the topic of conversation with my friends. I am sure you are happy. I am sure it must bring you so much narcissistic joy. I hate it. I hate it as much as the next woman in America.

I will applaud you on one account however. You have some die hard supporters. Your supporters are crazy driven to meet you and get to know you. I have a surprise. I do know you. I have met you in class discussions. I have served you a drink at a work. I have seen you at the bar.

I know exactly who you are. You are the guy who argues with me in class for the sake of talking. You did not complete the reading nor know the professor’s name but giggle when I contribute a justified thought to the conversation. You snap at me to get you a drink then proceed not to tip me because I am here to serve you. You are the guy who is drunk and grabs my ass while I am drinking with friends. You tell me, “I’m just having a good time,” because what kind of time I am having means nothing to you. Everyone has met a Donald Trump in their life. We do not like you.

This is why we have a problem, Donald. Well, in all honesty, we have many problems but I am here to highlight the biggest issue you bring to me and every other woman. You simply do not get it. I am a strong, independent woman but I still cross to the other side of the street when I see a group of guys hanging outside a bar while I am walking home alone. I still cringe when a man steps too close to me on the subway in fear I will be another victim of sexual assault. I still never let a man buy me a drink because of the thought of waking up without any recollection of the night before terrorizes my mind.

I need you to ever so desperately understand sexual assault. It is not a problem where men and women can just “look for another place to work.” It is a huge problem that is continuously escalating. Every 109 seconds that pass by, an American is sexually assaulted. Although your narrow mind might not be able to handle this, sexual assault has absolutely no boundaries. It is an equal opportunity villain. It is men and women, adults and children, blacks and whites, rich and poor. You have looked into the eyes of sexual assault survivors every single day. We walk among you. We are here and you cannot “grab her by the pussy.”

I could type and type and type about all the ways you have disrespected women physically, emotionally, and mentally but America already knows. We have heard you attack women by labeling them “pigs, dogs, slobs, and disgusting animals.” We have witnessed your need to degrade women on their appearance because “she gained a massive amount of weight, and we had a real problem.” A real problem is you believing that rating women based on their “fuckabilitly” is an acceptable form of male conversation. And most importantly, those words you deem to be “locker room” banter are the same words that led to Brock Turner’s “twenty minutes of action.”

I am not going to continue to point out how you are a terrible individual. I am here to tell you why your words and actions lead to a bigger issue. When you are disrespecting women, when you are making excuses for assault, when you are manterrupting every female on national television, you are saying four words to each and every woman. You. Are. Not. Worthy.

You are saying I am not worthy of respect. You are telling my niece it is perfectly okay to be verbally degraded. You are telling my nephews that they can insult women because they are just props in life.  You are telling my little brother that all that women can offer to the world is looks.

You are saying I am not worthy of my body. You are telling me my rape does not hold the slightest of importance. You are telling my sister, who sat on my bed, balling with a black eye, that she was not worthy of the term assault. You are telling my best friend that she is not worthy of legitimate compliments but only the cat calls thrown at her.

You are saying I am not worthy of my brain. My thoughts come second to the guy next to me in the classroom. You are telling my mom that she should not contribute to a business meeting because men’s thoughts take precedence. You tell my sister she does not deserve respect from any audience.

This is an aggressive letter, but it is important that you realize the impact that you are making in modern day America. Your supporters will hate me. They will comment that I am a crazy feminist and that Hilary Clinton is a criminal. That is fine because at the end of the day, I have one belief. Every single human being is to be seen as a human being. I will make it known to you and your supporters, that you do not respect human beings.  You do not respect anyone who has a different thought than you. I am calling you out because not one drop of my self-worth depends on the acceptance of you or your supporters.

I hope this letter creates some reaction from you. If it makes you sad, okay. If you crumple it up, okay. If you call me a bitch, okay. There are many people in the world that are genuinely angry with you. Of course there is me and other feminists, but many in the LGBTQ community, those of different racial backgrounds, and even veterans. If you have even an ounce of the reaction that you have triggered in many of the American voters, I will be pleased.

I do not want you to be president. I want your name abolished from all media sources. I want my niece and nephews to never realize how scared I am of knowing you are best the Republican Party had to offer.

I will see you November 8th.

With no love,

A Nasty Woman