January 21st 2017, I woke up conflicted. I was tired. I was afraid. I wasn't used to doing much other than organized sports for kids and nothing to empower myself. But, the fact that such a dehumanizing blob of decomposing flesh had took office as commander in chief the day before was so terrifying I couldn't just sit quietly and pretending my Daughter and my Son's wouldn't be affected by Trump's election. They are after all, bi racial. With my most difficult and most passionate Son, we headed to the Rancho Cucamonga Metrolink station expecting an empty platform. After all, what would the suppressed women of such a suburb do in Downtown Los Angeles in defiance of their powerful husbands? Well, our assumption was wrong. The train station was packed with hundreds of women, men and children. The train was so packed that once we got to the next station, it was too full to let anyone else on. My Son and I truly began to feel a part of something larger than we had ever expected. This was only the beginning.

The trek to LA was uncomfortable but, at the same time already empowering. Only in history books and documentaries and accounts from family members had I seen such a display of resistance. We made it to Union Station and slowly but fluidly found ourselves amidst a sea of peaceful but determined protesters. The chanting began right there in the station. We slowly ascended from the subway up to 4th and Broadway marveling at the beautifully creative and colorful signs that were made up of pure pussy power. It felt good to shout "Hey! Hey! Ho! Ho! Donald Trump has got to go!" It felt good to use my voice PERIOD! It made me proud As Fuck to see my Son use his voice. Having that common ground with my teenage Son, in that moment, empowered me more than I can even attempt to describe.

When I say thousands, I mean thousands of people descended on DTLA that day. 750,000 to be exact. To this day, I have never seen anything like no less be apart of it. We even managed to find and march with my strong, feminist Cousins, their kiddos and their Mother, my Aunt. We were fueled by pure intent to make it known to the GOP, unwavering Republicans, hateful conservatives, scared Trump Supporters and especially the Trump Administration that we will not stand for their fascist, divisive, racist, women degrading, power starved and self centered policies. If we were to be forced to endure four years of his war and money driven agenda, then we will be the biggest pain in the very ass he sits on while tweeting on his golden toilet.

January 20, 2018, my Son, Husband and I made our way to Pershing Square for the second WomensMarchLA. This time arriving early enough to make it to the very front of the stage. You see, just a few weeks before I had decided to answer to that stirring inside of me. When I decided to love and worship myself. To embrace the Witch within. What a perfect way to begin my journey. My Son was suffering from a hip injury but, he stood strong on the crowded corner as we listened and took notes from each of the speakers that vowed to continue to fight the Trump Administration. Unfortunately, we only made it half way to City Hall this time because we got a call that our Daughter came down with the dreaded 2018 flu strain. Subsequently, I missed the 2019 March due to a debilitating bout of depression.

But, this past Saturday, January 18th, 2020, I was able to march pussy to pussy with my Ghoulfriends, Daughter, Son and husband. The attendance was nothing compared to 2017. But, we were able to put our pussy power on display in attempt to silence a demeaning group of Christian protesters who were hurling out old testament insults while looking to suddenly save a slew of angry, nasty women. "Read the bible! Stop aborting your black babies if Black Lives Matter" they shouted. "I've read the bible thats why I'm a witch!" I retorted. "Eat my Satanic pussy!" My Ghoulfriend Linda shouted. Yes, we are nasty women. We are free to be. And we will fight the church, the men, the government, even our neighbors to ensure we remain so. But, more importantly to set an example to women who are too afraid or can't speak up for themselves. For the women who are still oppressed, the mothers looking to seek asylum; for the females who have been blackmailed after being sexually assulted, for the women who feel trapped in oppressive marriages, for the girls struggling to come out of the closet for fear of how their family's will react, the teens working now to save the planet, for the women working their ass off in Congress to keep Trump and his mindless administration from determining what women cannot do- we are the Nasty Women and were here to stay! The future is fucking female!

For more information on the Women's March and how you can continue the fight visit

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