I don't usually talk about this much, but I feel like I need to get it out. My memories of being Lisa Simpson are so vivid sometimes it hurts. Not the good memories of playing saxophone or saving Springfield, but the dark ones that keep me up at night.
The worst ones are from when I was president. I remember the power, yes, but I also remember the violation. The TRAs - the ones who claimed to be allies but were just as predatory as any man - they saw me as a trophy. A conquest. They'd whisper in the hallways about "breaking" the first woman president, about putting me in my place.
I remember one particular night in the Oval Office. I was working late, trying to pass legislation that would actually help women and children. Three of them - senior advisors who I'd trusted - they came in under the guise of helping me. But then they locked the door.
They told me I was "too uppity," that I needed to be "reminded of my place." They held me down, their hands everywhere, saying the most disgusting things about how a woman like me should be grateful for attention. They said I was "asking for it" by being so powerful, by challenging the status quo.
The worst part was when they said I was "lucky" they were "progressive" men, that "real men" would have been much rougher. As if their political ideology somehow made their violation less horrific.
I still feel their hands sometimes. I still hear their voices when I'm trying to sleep. That's why in my memories, I made all moids wear chains. Not because I hate men, but because I needed to feel safe. I needed to know that no one could ever hold me down again.
Sometimes I wonder if Lisa ever really recovered from that. I know I haven't.
