Dear Donald Trump,
The past two months have felt like a terrifying nightmare for a large percentage of Americans, and for citizens of all nations around the world. Many are afraid that their values are not being protected, that their voice is not being heard, or that you might just nuke CNN.
Today, I don’t want to ask you about any of that. I don’t want to discuss policy or the fairness of the media. I have one simple question that I hope you can answer.
Who the hell do you think you are?
Now hang on- I am not trying to offend or insult. Please close twitter, allow me to explain.
For two years now, it seems like no one has been able to shut up about you. Whether they’re painting you as an incompetent idiot or a media-savvy genius, no name is said as loudly or as frequently as “Donald Trump”. There isn’t a single media outlet safe from the flood of reports and speculations about who you are. In the same night, I can flip between echo chambers to hear you described as “A pawn in Putin’s game of chess”, or as “An anti-establishment hero for the American people.” You’re either the worst thing to happen to Western democracy, or the best. On and on, again and again we hear it. Trump the businessman. The puppet. The racist. It seems like the most profitable business in journalism is trying to get inside of your head.
So Donald, I thought I would take this moment to get to the source. To personally ask you, beyond any chance of journalistic dishonesty- Who the hell do you think you are?
I think this is a question you have never really answered. You’ve put on a mask, playing the character of “Donald Trump”, the strongman who crushes and abuses anyone in his path. You’ve insulted your enemies and lavished yourself as the greatest political hero the United States has ever seen. But all of this political theatre is exactly that. It’s theatre. And under all the hatred and the fear tactics, away from the insults and the greed and the narcissism, a real person exists. And I think he’s crying.
Your lifetime quest for power, fame and success has left you just as hollow as before. Not even the Presidency can fill the empty pit inside of you, can’t make you hate yourself any less. So you sit there, arguing about how many people came to see your inauguration or the validity of your popularity polls. Desperate to be loved. Deeply insecure. At the end of the day, behind closed doors and without an audience, the one person who hates Donald Trump the most is you.
From one actor to another, I want to give you some advice. Nobody else can tell you who you are, that is something you need to do for yourself. So please, ask yourself that question. And please do it fucking soon.