I don't honestly know how to start this. I went to bed at 1:30 am crying and woke up at 5:30 with tears still streaming down my face. I am heartbroken. The people have spoken. I understand how democracy works. My candidate lost and I know what that means. I foolishly and naively let myself believe that this country could continue on a socially progressive trajectory. I let myself believe that a woman with whom I identify in so many ways (mostly abstract because LOL let's be real I'm not going to be running for president) could bust a hole in that glass ceiling and validate things that I've always longed to be externally validated. I hoped that this country could show me that women can be powerful, women don't need to play to gender stereotypes to be liked and respected, women can subvert gender norms and get shit done. That is not what happened last night.
While I was trying to sleep, I couldn't stop thinking about the messages I have received about my self-worth from others and how that's playing out now. I couldn't help but think about the times* in high school when a boy told me "she's so hot if I found her dead but still warm I'd still f*ck her." (*yes, times. With an s. That happened more than once.) That guy might think he could be president. I thought about the boy in college who once poured a full beer on a woman's head as his way of demonstrating to her that he was finished with their consensual physical relationship. That guy could be think he could be president. I thought about all of my strong, smart-as-hell, talented, fun, funny female friends, friends who identify as LGBTQ, friends who identify as Muslim, friends with disabilities. I thought about how many times these friends have been passed over for promotions, physically and emotionally abused, threatened and hassled. I thought about this time at an old job when I was told that no action would be taken towards male coworkers who made derogatory comments about women in the office because they "worked hard" even though some of them worked half the hours per week than I did.
It makes me mad and sad and scared to think that this country just demonstrated the pervasive power of dominant narrative messages through an election. Most of these things I've known have existed my whole life: the idea that what white people, cisgender males, heterosexual people, wealthy people (and particularly a combo of all of these identify factors) say and do towards others doesn't really matter, that they are entitled to whatever they want and that they are somehow the smartest, best, most deserving people on earth. These things were validated last night by a national election.
I'm not going to lie, sometimes I feel really despondent and hopeless. Being told I'm "too aggressive" when I assert myself, having to justify my belief that equality is something all human beings deserve, needing to cite actual statistics and research to somehow "prove" that things like rape jokes are damaging to people, arguing for my right to control my body - these things wear me down. Sometimes I think it would be easier to give up because then maybe it wouldn't hurt so damn much. But then I think, "that's total BS" because ultimately this is about so much more than just me. To check out would be me selfishly and lazily claiming privilege I have inherited through unjust means. It would be an abandonment of others who continue to work towards safety and progress. It would be allowing those dominant narratives to take ownership over my soul and I just can't have that. I know my worth and, while it would have been kickass to see my country - a place that I love - recognize the strength of a candidate I admired, that didn't happen. I feel unvalued, disrespected and hurt but this is not the time to check out. To check out would be to give up. The rhetoric of violence, xenophobia, racism, sexism, ableism, classism and media suppression was thick and heavy this election season and, as a result, many people feel unsafe. To those people I want to say: I love you. I am sorry. I am not checking out.
These battles have been fought for generations. Realistically, they may continue to be fought by future generations too. When I look at my niece and nephews, I need to believe that the world they live in will be better and more accepting for them - the mere thought reduces me to a puddle of tears. But that's not going to happen overnight and it's not going to happen without work. This feeling sucks but I can't and I won't let it break me. I'm better than that. We are better than that. Now it's time to prove it.
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