This is not my home.

by Holly Richardson
by Holly Richardson

Last week, our senior Senator, prepping for his 8th term, came to lecture Utahns and tell them to “come home” to the Republican party.

Come home to what, exactly?! Hurricane Donald has ripped through the GOP and left a trail of carnage. It’s not just a leaky roof and some blown over lawn chairs. There’s no home left. Even the foundations have been ripped up.

What I’ve discovered in the 2016 process was the home I thought was welcoming to me, actually wasn’t. Its foundations were rotted, its framework termite-infested.

Turns out, the things I thought the home was built on – fiscal discipline, limited government, free markets and support for family (which includes women) are no longer important. The home of suffrage and civil rights is now the home of big walls, racist taunts, big taxes (punitive tariffs for business) and the objectification of women.

As Hurricane Trump bore down on our home, I was initially hopeful that both men and women would stand up and say “No more.” No more abuse of women. No more mocking the disabled. No more racist comments. No more talk about targeting one of the world’s largest religions. No more inciting violence.

Sadly, that did not happen. Oh sure – there were a few here and there, like Senator Mike Lee, Congresswoman Mia Love and Lt. Gov. Spencer Cox, who stood firm. There were a few more who finally got pushed out of the house, like Governor Gary Herbert – and I appreciate that. But to my dismay, more and more jumped on the Trump train. Then, the gaslighting began. “It’s just locker-room talk.” “We’re not electing a pope” and then, “What’s wrong with you?” “Why don’t you love America?” and this winner “Baby killer.”

Let me be clear. In MY home, we don’t tolerate, engage in or excuse gaslighting. Or bullying.

I have to wonder: when.did those behaviors become OK!? Did I just miss it?? Did “our home” just get used to the crass and unkind?

Alexander Pope described the steps in accepting vice:

“Vice is a monster of so frightful mien

As to be hated needs but to be seen;

Yet seen too oft, familiar with her face,

We first endure, then pity, then embrace.”

Marybeth Glenn, conservative blogger and long-time Republican expressed the betrayal that many women feel when the men of the GOP refused to stand up to Hurricane Donald’s blustering. She fired off a series of tweets, summarized below. (Click here for the whole thing.)

So let me get this straight: I, a conservative female, have spent years defending the Republican Party against claims of sexism. When I saw Republican men getting attacked I stood up for them. I came to their defense. I fought on their behalf. I fought on behalf of a movement I believed in.

I fought on behalf of my principles while other women told me I hated my own sex…Now some Trojan horse nationalist sexual predator invades the GOP eating it alive, and you cowards sit this one out? He treats women like dogs, and you go against everything I – and other female conservatives – said you were & back down like cowards.

[Some] try to rebuke his comments, yet STILL choose to vote for a sexual predator – because let’s be honest, that’s what he is. “What he said is wrong, and the way he treats women is wrong, but it’s not wrong enough for me to not vote for him.”

Thanks, cowards.

Various men in the movement are writing it off as normal, confirming every stereotype the left has thrown at them. So I’m done. I’m sooo done.

If you can’t stand up for women & unendorse this piece of human garbage, you deserve every charge of sexism thrown at you…You won’t really care that I’m offended by your silence, and your inability to take a stand. But one by one you’ll watch more women like me go, & you’ll watch men of ACTUAL character follow us out the door.

And what you’ll be left with are the corrupt masses that foam at the mouth every time you step outside the lines… When it’s all said and done, all you’ll have left is the party The Left always accused you of being.

Scum.

So, come home, we’re told. If this toxicity is what home is, then it’s not my home. How can I look my children in the eye and tell them it’s a safe place for them? My sons in wheelchairs, my Hispanic child, my daughters….How can I tell them principles matter until it’s “our home” that doesn’t have any?

I still have friends in that home. Some don’t see the destruction. Some see it and hope the home can be rebuilt. And maybe it can, on truly solid foundations.

Or maybe Hurricane Donald was one storm too many and the rebuilding will be in a new location, with new builders, new footings, new walls and a welcoming family.

For me, even a tent – a big one, of course  – would be better than living in the shattered, unwelcoming -and even dangerous – remains of a once beautiful home.

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