I awoke this morning with red-rimmed eyes and tear stained cheeks. I lay in bed checking my phone for a miracle. Last night's results remained the same. Donald Trump is our president-elect. No amount of refreshing the Google results would change that. I had spent into the wee hours of the morning doing math. I hate math. I'm a words person. But, I sat adding electoral votes with different possibilities for a better outcome. I knew we were in trouble early and by 12:30 AM, I was in tears. But still, I kept feverishly doing the math until the 2 AM hour when it was called.
I thought about this while laying in bed. And then a few seconds later I made my decision. I would channel my anger and sadness and overwhelming disappointment into helping others and positivity.
Pulling myself out of bed, I stopped into my daughter's room. Sitting on the edge of the bed, I began to cry.
"What's wrong mommy?" Her eyes were wide as she asked. I don't cry in front of my children very often.
"I'm sad about the election results." I breathed these words heavily because I truthfully didn't know where this discussion would go. She knows my furor of disdain for Donald Trump and has come to share the same disdain. I want my children to respect the POTUS, just as I had always done. This time it would be hard, as I believe this is a man who has very little respect for me as a woman.
"Did Donald Trump win?"
"Yes, sweetie. He did."
"Do you need a hug? It makes me sad, too."
"Yes, a hug sounds great. Do you have any questions?"
"Not right now, mommy. I'm sorry"
"I'm sorry, too."
Apologizing to each other felt both right and wrong. We spoke about it again later today at dinner as a family. We talked about having hope and we can do to move forward with kindness.
So much has passed through my mind today. I thought about the whys, the hows, and more importantly, the what ifs. I felt grief, guilt, anger, and sadness. Had I done my part?
The answer is, I did the best I could.
It's important for me to continue to do the best I can. For that reason I've committed myself to some self-care measures. Lots of walks with my dog and a weekly yoga class are in the cards for me. I plan to study history more deeply and I want to write.
That's why I'm here. I want to write. I have a story. The more we tell our stories the greater agents of change we become.
I want to listen to the stories of my children and my husband and weave them all together with mine. A bigger voice. We will spend more time together, talking, thinking, and listening.
I won't forget about politics. Politics will be woven into my daily thoughts on those walks, in my breaths on my yoga mat, in the history I study, and in my writing. Politics, after-all, is defined as the activities associated with the governance of a country or other area. We have political agency over our mind and bodies. Our families and homes. Politics are everyday and in our stories.
My politics of kindness and helping will help carry us through and I hope they are the politics adopted by the majority.
I thought about this while laying in bed. And then a few seconds later I made my decision. I would channel my anger and sadness and overwhelming disappointment into helping others and positivity.
Pulling myself out of bed, I stopped into my daughter's room. Sitting on the edge of the bed, I began to cry.
"What's wrong mommy?" Her eyes were wide as she asked. I don't cry in front of my children very often.
"I'm sad about the election results." I breathed these words heavily because I truthfully didn't know where this discussion would go. She knows my furor of disdain for Donald Trump and has come to share the same disdain. I want my children to respect the POTUS, just as I had always done. This time it would be hard, as I believe this is a man who has very little respect for me as a woman.
"Did Donald Trump win?"
"Yes, sweetie. He did."
"Do you need a hug? It makes me sad, too."
"Yes, a hug sounds great. Do you have any questions?"
"Not right now, mommy. I'm sorry"
"I'm sorry, too."
Apologizing to each other felt both right and wrong. We spoke about it again later today at dinner as a family. We talked about having hope and we can do to move forward with kindness.
So much has passed through my mind today. I thought about the whys, the hows, and more importantly, the what ifs. I felt grief, guilt, anger, and sadness. Had I done my part?
The answer is, I did the best I could.
It's important for me to continue to do the best I can. For that reason I've committed myself to some self-care measures. Lots of walks with my dog and a weekly yoga class are in the cards for me. I plan to study history more deeply and I want to write.
That's why I'm here. I want to write. I have a story. The more we tell our stories the greater agents of change we become.
I want to listen to the stories of my children and my husband and weave them all together with mine. A bigger voice. We will spend more time together, talking, thinking, and listening.
I won't forget about politics. Politics will be woven into my daily thoughts on those walks, in my breaths on my yoga mat, in the history I study, and in my writing. Politics, after-all, is defined as the activities associated with the governance of a country or other area. We have political agency over our mind and bodies. Our families and homes. Politics are everyday and in our stories.
My politics of kindness and helping will help carry us through and I hope they are the politics adopted by the majority.
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