A 16 year old daughter writes a letter to her father, baffled that he voted for Trump. Circa 2035:

Dad,

I’ve been trying to make sense of something that’s been bothering me for a long time, and I can’t keep quiet about it anymore. I need to know why you voted for Donald Trump.

I’ve read the articles, I’ve seen the interviews, and I know you knew what he did. He was found liable of sexually assaulting a woman. So many other women came forward, telling their stories, but it didn’t seem to matter. He insulted, bullied, and degraded people, especially women. He fought to strip away our rights, my rights—our right to choose what we do with our own bodies. You always told me to stand up for what’s right, to be strong and fight for justice. But how can I reconcile that with the fact that you voted for someone who stood for the exact opposite?

It feels like a betrayal, Dad. I want to believe that you’re the person who’s always been in my corner, who cares about what’s right and wrong, but I can’t get past this. How could you look at everything Trump did, everything he was accused of, and still think, “Yeah, this is the man who deserves my vote”? Was his power, his promises, more important than what he actually did to people? To women?

I feel like I’m living in a world that people like you helped create—one where people like him get away with everything, where women like me have to fight even harder to be heard, to be believed. Did you even think about how your vote would affect me? About how his policies, his words, his actions would make life harder for me and millions of others? Or did none of that matter as much as whatever other reasons you had for supporting him?

I know this isn’t going to be easy for you to hear, and honestly, I’m not trying to be gentle about it. I’m angry. I feel like you ignored everything he did to hurt people and chose him anyway. And I need to know why. Was it money? Power? Fear? Did you really believe he was the best option, even after everything that came out?

I don’t want excuses. I want you to be honest with me, even if that honesty makes things harder between us. Because right now, I’m struggling to understand how you could look at everything he did—everything he represented—and still stand by him.

This hurts, Dad. More than I think you realize. I’m trying to make sense of it, but the more I think about it, the angrier I get. I’ve always looked up to you, but right now, I don’t know how to feel.

You’ve always told me to demand better from the world. I’m demanding better from you.

- Jen

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