Disclaimer: This is not a post about my OCD recovery. I just needed to try and be a small light in a dark world.
Today is the worst day in the lives of many Americans. I am on my knees, heartbroken, as I come to terms with the fact that our nation has elected a president that does not believe minorities (this includes women) should have equal rights with the rest. I am in shock that my country was so scared of a politician that they elected a hotheaded tyrant. I am scared. I am confused. And at 3 o’clock this morning while I sobbed with my two best friends, I was hopeless.
I should’ve known better.
Yes, this is a dark and dismal time for myself and my loved ones. But even in the darkest of times, humanity continues to shine brightly. Our small honors dorm common room was full last night of people who were hurting, who were angry. We held each other. There were tears, and vomit, and pain, but we lifted each other up. People who are not normally exceptionally close hugged one other, made each other tea, cried on each other’s shoulders. Those of us from highly conservative states dealing with bigotry from home were supported. Those from blue states shared stories of love and openness. I am overwhelmed by the amount of love pouring out from a college freshman residence hall.
My best friends, Izzy and Rachel, were by my side all night. We buckled down at 6, ready to watch what we thought would be the election of the first woman ever to be president. We were hopeful, we were excited, we were joyous. As always, I am amazed at how God puts people together. Rachel and Izzy and I were exactly what each other needed last night as our world turned dark. While there were emotions and tears, vomit and screaming, we clung tightly to each other as the votes rolled in. I am thankful for their friendship, their support, their beautiful souls in the time.
As a small blue dot in a bright red state, my whole life I have been an oddball. I know a large amount of the people I know voted for Trump. I can only say I hope they made the best, most well-researched choice for them, because I know they didn’t make their choice with me and those I love in mind. As I hugged my crying, hurting suite mate Zada, a lifelong California resident with two wonderful mothers, I realized the country had voted against her family. Brokenhearted and weak, we greeted each other with a long hug this morning, that drew strength from each other to face the world today. Our world just got a lot darker, but we are able to continue with the light from each other. It is the only way.
So I guess my point is this: I still have faith in my people. While the future leader of our country is one of hate and bigotry, I see the light in humanity. We have not given up hope, we will not be silenced. There is still so much good in those around me, and I will continue to magnify the light and project my own. It is the only way to live these next few years. It is the only way we will make it. Hug your LGBT friends, your friends of racial and religious minority, your friends with disabilities, and your female friends, for they are hurting so awfully right now, and the only way to survive is to love. If you are hurting, or know someone who is hurting, please reach out. I love you. People love you. Call the national suicide hotline- 1-800-273-8255. Call your momma. Go adopt a puppy, or a kitten. Be the light. Love as hard as you can.
even the darkest night will end, and the sun will rise.