Okay, Hillary, let's get real for a second here. Because I have been fighting with myself since the day you announced.
I, like many of my millennial peers, have been waiting for the day when that glass ceiling shatters. I spent a good portion of my childhood reading about Eleanor Roosevelt and imagining what the world would be like if she had been the one sitting at the resolute desk. I would tell my parents that I wanted to be the first woman president while simultaneously praying it wouldn't take that long. And now it's so close I can feel it. My first time voting in a presidential election and it could very well be for a woman who will pave the way for so many more. I have seven younger sisters and they desperately need to see what we can accomplish. I am 18 and passionate and optimistic and sometimes very insecure so I too desperately need to see what we can accomplish.
And so when the movement started I was READY. I ordered the bumper sticker. I downloaded every Beyonce voters meme. I kept my family updated so they'd never miss out: "She's going to announce in January. No wait, March. Actually, it's April. Yes. April." Then I counted down the minutes, the seconds until I could join something I had been waiting for since you were in the White House with a different title and I was just learning to walk.
And I got a video.
A video where I didn't even see your face for a minute and a half. There were no fireworks. No demand for attention. My favorite part was the recognition that love is love, not the announcement I've been waiting for since I was five.
Now, I imagine a lot of my disappointment stems from having this idea of a Times Square campaign announcement featuring the phrases "Dismantle the patriarchy" and "Bow down" with back-up music provided by a feminist icon (read: Beyonce). I'll admit I might have gotten carried away. And I understand the message behind it all. The "It's not about me, it's about YOU!" image that I'm sure will resonate with a lot of people.
But the thing is, I need for it to be about you. And me. And the millions of other women who still don't quite feel represented in their own country. I need to see the little girl who was told she couldn't be an astronaut grow up to be President of the United States. I need to see the woman who was told not become a trial lawyer because she didn't have a wife become so much more than they thought of her. I need to see the woman who did vodka shots with John McCain and won prove to America what a champ she is. Because you're right, America does need a champion. But more specifically, America's women need a champion. And I really hope it's you.