In the political ads I’ve been seeing of late, “abortion without exception” sounds decisive, powerful, and bold.

But what it really means is this: at least 32,000 pregnancies from rape every year. That’s 87 a day.

Eighty-seven women, many already brutalized, will carry their rapist’s child.

And if that number doesn’t make you sick, consider this: it doesn’t even include incest.

These are the lives we’re willing to sacrifice on the altar of political purity.

We are told this is a fight for “life.” Whose life, exactly?

The raped woman? The assaulted teenager? The child molested by her father?

The words “without exception” slip so easily off the tongue of the self-righteous.

The idea is that morality is clear-cut, that principles are pure.

But this isn’t principle—it’s cruelty masquerading as ethics.

Because the result of these policies is state-enforced pregnancy for rape victims.

Tell me again about the sanctity of life when you force an 11-year-old incest victim to carry to term.

It’s not about protecting life. It’s about control.

It’s about forcing the most vulnerable to pay for the moral posturing of the powerful.

No exceptions. No mercy. No humanity.

Trump runs scared.

When it comes to strong, capable women, Donald Trump repeatedly reveals his true nature: a man unable to face them head-on. His refusal today to debate Kamala Harris again is just the latest in a long list of instances where he’s retreated when confronted by women who challenge him.

And make no mistake—this isn’t just a Trump issue; it’s emblematic of the broader Republican approach to gender.

Let’s look at the facts. In July 2024, Trump faced tough questions at the National Association of Black Journalists (NABJ) conference, where he faltered when challenged by female moderators like Rachel Scott of ABC.

His response? A litany of baseless claims and thinly veiled insults aimed at Harris, accusing her of only recently identifying as Black—an assertion that was instantly debunked. Trump’s discomfort was palpable.

His rhetoric quickly devolved into a mess of disjointed ideas, a hallmark of his defensiveness when faced with tough, direct questioning, especially from women of color. Instead of answering, he deflected and insulted, proving yet again that Trump is out of his depth when a strong woman takes the stage.

This is a pattern. In 2018, Trump was famously outmaneuvered by Nancy Pelosi during the government shutdown negotiations. Faced with Pelosi’s political acumen, Trump had no choice but to back down.

And who can forget his 2016 run, where his debates with Hillary Clinton were marked by his stalking and interrupting, clear signs of a man rattled by a woman’s command of the room?

But it’s not just Trump. The entire Republican Party has a history of dismissing and avoiding strong women.

Republicans consistently support policies that limit women’s autonomy, from reproductive rights to equal pay. They shy away from direct confrontations on these issues because they know their positions are indefensible against a well-versed, articulate woman.

The GOP is more comfortable passing laws behind closed doors than defending them in the public square, particularly when the opposition is female.

Trump’s refusal to debate Harris isn’t about strategy—it’s about fear. It’s about his inability to face strong women on equal footing.

And this cowardice isn’t just his; it’s the Republican Party’s legacy.