One week ago, I dressed up in a pantsuit and went to the polls, even though I had already mailed in my ballot. I wanted that "I voted" sticker and I wanted that selfie, because I was convinced that history would be made. I didn't care that the day was hot and a blazer was totally inappropriate; I didn't care that the kids at school looked at me curiously and the staff asked me if I was attending a meeting afterwards (I usually come to work in jeans). One week ago I was quite emotional. I was sure I would be bursting into tears that night when the first woman president of the United States would be elected. I made sure my phone battery was charged so I could take a photo of the TV screen as soon as they called the election in Hillary's favor, just as I had when Obama was elected four and eight years ago.
Well, we all know what happened that night. History was made, all right. Just not the kind of history I was hoping for. Just not the kind of history I expected. All night long I watched the tv screen with a sick feeling in my stomach, disquiet morphing into disbelief morphing into panic and finally, despair. I didn't take a photo of the tv screen. I didn't even stay up to hear the networks call the winner. I couldn't bear to.
One week minus one day ago, I woke up, still in disbelief, still in mourning. I couldn't concentrate. I couldn't look at friends in the eye without tearing up. I couldn't scroll through my Facebook feed without tearing up. I couldn't bear to watch any news.
Looking back, even just one week after, I wonder how I let things affect me so much that I would actually CRY about it. But looking back, I'm glad I did. I didn't cry because I'm a poor loser. I cried because I really, really wanted her to win, not just because she wasn't Trump, but because I think she is the most qualified presidential candidate ever (note: I said "I think". My opinion. I don't want to debate her merits at this point; there's no point). I cried because I was sad that half the nation (actually, just under half; Clinton won the popular vote) did not share my values. I cried because I was disappointed in myself for not realizing it. I guess liberals have their own kind of bubble.
It's going to be an interesting next four years.