Donald Trump, Dating Apps, and the Demise of American Men

Donald Trump, Dating Apps, and the Demise of American Men
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We are on the precipice of a highly significant moment in American History. We have 2 choices as a Nation:

  1. Elect the very first Female President of the United States of America.

  2. Continue to add fuel to Inferno that has been searing the character of our Nation by electing Donald Trump, KING of Misogynists. A “Man” who represents and justifies all the UNACCEPTABLE behavior I’ve encountered this past year:

I am a 35 year old Woman living and working in Los Angeles. I am also Single. I have never been Married. I do not have any Children. I am a working Actress. I graduated Summa Cum Laude from Northwestern University. I am Ambitious, Talented, Highly Motivated, Hard Working, Intelligent, and Sensitive.

Since jumping into the dating pool just last Fall, I have been Schooled in the dubious nature of men. Though I didn’t think dating in my 30s would necessarily be easy, I had no idea it would shine a Blazing light on the Fucked up tendencies and behavior of men in our current Society.

About a year ago I received an unexpected message from a boy I knew of during my years at Northwestern. Somehow he had found me on J-Date even though I lived in Los Angeles and he in Atlanta. What began as a funny re-introduction, quickly escalated into something more. It felt like a fairy tale, like something written in the stars — 2 Theatre kids, 15 years later, reconnecting across the Inter-web. You’ve Got Mail in 2015.

Little did I know this man, let’s call him “Brett,” would open my eyes to a Sickness I’m beginning to observe more and more in modern day American men. Let me make this clear. I have MANY examples of and relationships with Good, Kind, Stand-up Men. My Father, my Brother, My Brother-in-Law, the Men in my Family, my Family’s friends, my Ex, my close friends, etc. But, in listening to my girlfriends, and in my first-hand experiences this year, I can say that this sickness is RAMPANT and needs to be stopped.

For example, posted to a dear friend’s Twitter:

And I digress...

Brett and I communicated every day via text. Sometimes phone calls. Sometimes Face Time. Even though it sounds crazy, we were Aligned. For the first time since my breakup I had feelings for another man. For the first time I felt Alive. And Wanted. And Excited. And In Love.

After weeks and then months of long-distance communication, I determined that I could no longer cultivate or sustain a long distance “relationship” with someone who gave me no concrete indication that he’d come visit me in person. So, I did what any healthy person would do. I informed him that I’d be needing to date other people here in LA.

Instead of a response of understanding, I was Assaulted with Words. Shaming words, Insulting words, Accusatory words, Damaging words. Instead of apologies, I was met with Self-Defense. “Love is chaotic. Love is irrational. The Words were coming from a place of Pain,” so that made them OK.

Because I’m an empathetic and sensitive person, I chose to forgive Brett. I gave him a chance to be my friend. That decision was a mistake. He began his whole sick game again of Reeling me in with Love and Poetry and Music, Stalling and Back-peddling and Manipulating and then Flipping on me when I told him I needed to move on. The second time, though, the Backlash was even more Disturbing. So much so, that I had to Block his email address and phone number.

This didn’t stop him. He changed numbers to a Google number and used a Hidden address to get through to my emails. Each time I’d receive a text or an email, I felt like I was getting Stabbed. So I Blocked the new numbers and the new emails until I didn’t see the messages coming anymore.

When on vacation with my family in Israel, he managed to get through with a text from a different number. I checked my junk mail and, sure enough, he had been sending me Numerous emails. 10-20 emails a day Every. Single. Day.

I hoped that by refusing to respond, he’d get the point. I had told him on more than 1 occasion that I wasn’t interested in a relationship with him, that I wished him the best, and that he should STOP contacting me.

Ignoring his incessant messages wasn’t enough. He didn’t Respect me when we interacted and he certainly didn’t Respect me when I pulled away.

The communication got so bad that I went to the police. Because the messages made me feel Sick and Unsafe. Because he wrote he “bet ten thousand I think of him when I Fuck whatever Loser I’m currently toying with.” Because he wrote he was my one and only and “I Fucked it up.” Because he asked if “I spent the night eating some dirty chick’s Asshole.”

It’s important to note that before things took a negative turn, we got on the subject of Politics. According to Brett, Hillary Clinton was/is the Devil. Guess who he planned on supporting? Donald Trump.

At the Station is where I learned my second Lesson. I thought that this harassment incident was isolated. That Brett was “Mentally Ill.” This justified (in a way) his behavior towards me. Though it was Painful and Stressful and Destructive, I could at least explain it. He has “Borderline Personality Disorder.” He can’t help himself…

I told my story to a handsome young policeman. I was Vulnerable. I was Distraught. I felt Helpless. I didn’t know how to handle the situation. I did not want to be there. The policeman put me at ease. At first. He cracked a joke. He assured me I was safe and I’d be ok. Then he started to Flirt. Initially, I laughed it off. I thought he was trying to make me feel better, and I was flattered. As I continued to share information about Brett, and how he’d been Harassing me, this policeman continued to Flirt. And make comments about how he’d Protect me, and how I was Cute and I didn’t look 35, and Oh, Brett was a “younger man” and so was he, and on and on until I said, “Enough.”

I walked out of the station in shock. Did the policeman just Harass me while I was trying to report another man for Harassment? How could he?! That was beyond FUCKED UP.

Thankfully, the messages stopped. For a short stretch of time. And I felt I could let my guard down. And start dating again. And so I did. And started to see a Man who was nice and respected me (though complained about having to wear a condom), but it didn’t work out.

And so I went back to the drawing board, this time to the dating app Bumble. Because with Bumble, the lady has to communicate first once a match is made. Because after trying out J-Date and Match, I didn’t want to have to receive unsolicited messages from 50-year-old men looking to “date” younger women.

I matched with 2 men. I started to “chat” with both.

Bachelor #1, let’s call him “Justin,” reached out to me for a few days in a row. He was interested and interesting. We seemed to share a sense of humor and way of communicating. I started to get excited to meet! I informed him of my schedule. I awaited a response. He continued to message me and flatter me and check in and send me cute emojis and pictures throughout the day. For several days. Until I told him I wasn’t interested in being Pen Pals and I wished him well. To which he responded he could be more than Pen Pals. And he assured me he wasn’t stringing me along or leading me on. Then he informed me he was “a very Sexual person” so “he keeps his distance and plays it cool until timing sets things up for the next level.” Since I had asked him what makes him tick.

And then a message from Bachelor #2, let’s call him “Farid,” who told me if I made him time for my King he’d treat me like his Queen.

And then back to the Police Station to add to my report. Despite the very clear warning from the Policeman, Brett had figured out a way to get through to me. Via a bogus email accusing ME of abuse and asking how I slept at night and demanding that I erase all communication and contact info and on and on.

And then to work. At an upscale restaurant. Where I waited on a table of 2 men. One of which told I was Pretty straight off the bat. And told me the bottle of wine he brought was $500,000. And asked if I was a “starving actress,” to which I replied proudly, “I AM an actress, but I’m NOT starving.” After which he Grabbed my side and said, “You’re not starving...I mean you’re not fat.” And as I walked away he made some comment about succeeding in his attempt to Touch me.

Last. Straw.

So at the appropriate moment, I looked into his eyes and said, “I don’t care what Assumptions you made about me…I know my Worth. But you owe me an Apology for Grabbing me…” To which he tried to Defend himself by saying it wasn’t a Grab it was more of a Poke. And he Poked me to ensure that I understood the difference. To which I replied “It doesn’t matter. You crossed the line. It was Inappropriate and you made me feel Uncomfortable.” To which he said “I’m sorry.” To which I said “Thank you. I Appreciate that.” And I walked away. Shaking. Angry for what he did and said. And Angry that I even had to stand up for myself. And Happy I did.

The next table over was a young family. A young 12 or 13-year-old girl with braces and a young boy of 10 or 11 years old. The Dad, one of the Good Guys, asked if I was ok. About to Break, I hustled to the bathroom to splash my face with water, cry a little, and collect myself, I Thanked them for their support. The Dad told me I handled the situation professionally, calmly, and with Grace. The Mom said she wanted to punch him. They had my back.

In that moment I felt great that I decided to say something to that Asshole not only for my own Self-Worth, but because I realized I had set an example for 2 impressionable children. To the young girl — To stand up for yourself. To the young boy — To treat women with Respect. Here’s hoping the next generation will learn. Pending the results of the upcoming election, it could go either way.

So. After visiting the Police Station for the Second time, and after the Incident at work, I decided to take my Sunday off. And then I got a text from Bachelor #2. And I informed him I needed some time to myself because I’d had a bad experience at work with a male customer. And he said sometimes people could be so dumb. And he told me today’s a new day and I should relax with him at the beach. And I told him I needed some space and thought I needed to recalibrate since I’d had some rough recent experiences. He told me to go to church. I said, “I’m Jewish.” He said, “I’m Muslim.” After I made a joke about Romeo and Juliet or West Side Story, I thought we reached understanding. Instead, his follow up: “Thong or Booty shorts.” And then… “Long or Thick.”

In the meanwhile, I realize it is actually Sunday and I was supposed to meet Justin. Well, I hadn’t heard from him at all the day prior and now … nothing. And so I send him a text to say, “I don’t know what happened to you but I wish you the best and I hope you find what you’re looking for.” And so moments later I get a response saying “Stuck working until Tuesday” and “I was looking for some free time to hang with a sweet girl and her pretty little dog” and “I’d much rather be getting scrutinized by you at the moment…” No apology for not letting me know he was unavailable today. No apology for leaving me hanging. Just an attempt to Keep me.

And so after this Monsoon of Horrific behavior, I sit at home with my dog Scout and wonder how and why and What the Fuck?

I’m a Strong, Intelligent, albeit Single Woman. Since when does “No” give you permission to Harass me? Since when does “Good luck” give you permission to Play with me like a Toy? Since when does being an Attractive Woman mean it’s ok to Grab or Grope me? Or Lie to me? Or Disrespect me?

Donald Trump could very well be our next President. If what I’ve experienced this past year is any indication of what’s to come should he be elected, I fear for the safety of American Women. What example are we setting by rewarding him? What are we teaching the next generation by condoning his behavior? By putting a blind eye to his Sick remarks about Megyn Kelly, Carly Fiorina, and his OWN DAUGHTER!

WORDS are just as abusive as other forms of violence. WORDS carry Power. Words can CUT. Words can STAB. Words can MAIM. And Words can INCITE.

I’m thankful I have not been Sexually or Physically Violated or Abused (Just a little “Poke”). The behavior I’ve experienced isn’t considered “Criminal,” unfortunately. It slips through the cracks. Because Words can be sneaky that way. Nonetheless, the Behavior and the Words are equally Dangerous and Damaging and Extremely Prevalent, from Donald Trump to Dicks on dating apps.

So what to do? What to say?

  1. I deleted my dating apps for now. So I can focus on Me.

  2. I will continue to stand up for myself. Out Loud.

  3. I will not apologize for saying “No,” nor feel the obligation to justify my reasons or explain myself or be “Nice.”

  4. I will vote for Hillary Clinton. Because a Woman in the most Powerful position in office can only help shift our culture away from Misogyny and towards a culture of Respect.

And that’s my Hope for now. That soon I and We can put all this behind us. That it will no longer be Tolerated or Accepted or Excused. Because Enough is Enough. And when I say I’m Done, I Mean It.

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