The Elephant in the Room

I always early vote and this year I could not wait to get it over with, so I went as soon as early voting started in my tiny town in Texas. Up until THE MOMENT, I did not know who I was going to go with – Trump or Clinton – so I went with my conscience and voted for Trump.  I believed the media, the newspapers, the polls, and Facebook that Trump was going to lose and decided to go down with the ship.

Yes, I voted for the Trumpster.

I left there thinking Clinton would win the popular vote and thereby, the electoral college. It was what the press and the national news and Facebook predicted. I was prepared to accept that, but at least I took a stand and hoped the new President would show more mercy on those of us who voted against her than Obama did, the days before being REPUBLICAN became synonymous to a bad word.

Anyone who truly knows me or follows my rants on Facebook, knows that I was as appalled as the next person that Trump made it this far. 

Back when we had seventeen yo-yo’s bidding for the Republican candidacy, I started my study to see who I would back.  I whittled it down to two, and believe me, Trump was not one of them.  By the time the GOP convention started, I was horrified that my party was about to be represented by him. 

No, I did not watch the debates.  Why?  I had watched some of the early matches among the many Republican wannabes, and I watched both conventions, but I did not watch the debates.  One, I was embarrassed by it all, and two, it was discussed at great lengths in all the media and social media for days afterwards.

Facebook was enough for me. 

My family and close friends know I lean Republican, and some make fun of me.  I get introduced, “This is Raquel.  She is Republican.”  It is usually followed by a snicker and a few giggles.  My family and close friends, the very people who should know me well, who should know my heart and have seen me in action.  They should know how I feel about equal rights, where my loyalty and compassion lay, that I am as appalled by his crassness and lack of political protocol as they are, but I could NOT bring myself to vote for his opponent. 

I took a stand and got criticized for it. Hurray for the right to an opinion and a free vote.

I guess they expected less of me.  I should have voted for who they wanted.  Maybe I should have hidden under a lie and told them I voted for Clinton, but I do not feel a decision that causes embarrassment or shame is a worthy decision, and I refused to be bullied.  

My true friends have stopped harassing me; my family hasn’t disowned me. But  now I have to live with, “This is Raquel.  She voted for Trump.”