Lady Liberty & The Broligarchs

A Cautionary Valentine's Tale

On a crisp February morning in the heart of Greenwich Village, the city is alive with anxiety and dirty snow. People scuttle like rats across 6th Avenue. The usual uniform of all black is disrupted with surprising splashes of red and pink that scream “Today is Valentine’s Day!” I'm on my way to get a decaf latte, hoping for a shred of normalcy. Taking my first sip of creamy goodness, my mind drifts to Lady Liberty, that ultimate Manhattan diva. Our girl is stuck in one hell of a toxic romance. A romance that I, for one, would like to forget.

She had it all: iconic looks, respect from her peers, her own private island, seemingly endless prosperity and a family that was the envy of the world. But, as we all know, with great power comes great temptation, and Lady Liberty fell for the ultimate bad boys …the Broligarchs.

Yes, the Broligarchs. These billionaire bros, with their midlife crisis clothes and their SDE, somehow wooed her with love bombing and pledges of a golden parachute. They vowed that she was their one and only, even though they had affairs with other statues and monuments behind her back. Like many Manhattan divas hoping to be swept off her feet, Lady Liberty didn’t see it coming. She fell for their false promises and fake news.

Here’s the problem with these Broligarchs: beneath their MAGA hats and privilege is something darker. They aren’t interested in love at all, they simply want to control the most powerful woman in the world.

As the months go by, they slowly drain her spirit, her bank account, and her relationships, isolating her from her friends, family, and the rest of the world. They use every trick in the book.

They know exactly how to manipulate her. They start with small cuts, like telling her that she isn’t as “great” as she used to be and that she is too welcoming to strangers. As their belittling continues to escalate, the Broligarchs never forget to remind her that she can’t do anything without their permission. They call her crazy, say she is imagining things, and humiliate her when she dares to challenge their authority. Slowly, over time, the cracks in her heart begin to show.

Now, I don't know about you, but as I sit here at O'Cafe on 12th street and 6th avenue, I can’t help but feel a sense of déjà vu. I mean, this sounds all too familiar. There’s always that one awful relationship you regret, the one you stay in longer than you should, like a broken heel you can’t bear to toss. And Lady Liberty? She is stuck. The Broligarchs make her feel like they are the ultimate masters of her universe, and, let me tell you, that’s when they start thinking that they can control everything.

The audacity, right? They’re coming for her whole world: her future, her job, her peace, her children’s opportunities. They threaten her daily with power plays and financial ruin. They think they can ignore the law because, well, why not? They're practically untouchable and no one has the courage to stop them.

But, here’s the thing the Broligarchs don’t know: Lady Liberty is no sitting duck. She’s awake. Waiting. Strategizing. Every minute, she's getting ready, just like many women caught in the crosshairs of coercion, she’s planning her escape.

She’s hidden emergency cash, family heirlooms, and crucial documents. She knows where the safest exits are, and which friends to trust (hint: not the ones in red hats). She’s rehearsed her escape plan, with the precision of a ballet dancer practicing her pirouettes, fluid, confident, and damn near perfect.

And she isn’t alone in this. Lady Liberty’s got a network of friends who have her back. Her coalition has more than enough strength to take on the Broligarchs, no matter how many stacks of crypto currency they hide behind.

So, America, if this isn’t a Valentine’s cautionary tale, I don’t know what is. Let Lady Liberty’s downfall be our wake-up call. These masters of manipulation are everywhere and breaking everything. And while they may seem untouchable, they are not. They keep their power when we let them trick us into believing things will run this way forever.

The final, bittersweet note of my latte has hit the back of my throat and I’ve got to head to school pick-up. My personal soundtrack for the route, Paul Simon, will accompany me, as a quiet offering to Lady Liberty, a reminder, perhaps, that even in the darkest of times, possibilities are abundant. There is always a way out and Paul’s got fifty.

The drumming begins with an almost marching-band-esque cadence urging me forward. The resistance is mobilizing. Then the drums cut out to make way for Paul to deliver his merciless motivation, “The answer is easy if you take it logically. I’d like to help you in your struggle to be free. There must be fifty ways to leave your lover … ” (Sing it with me!)

Slip out the back, Jack

Make a new plan, Stan

You don’t need to be coy, Roy

Just listen to me

Hop on the bus, Gus

You don’t need to discuss much

Just drop off the key, Lee

And get yourself free

Written Valentine’s Day 2025