Yesterday was a very hard day for me. I know it was also a very hard day for many of my brothers and sisters across this nation.
I spent Nov 8th in a haze of hopefulness - assured that love and sanity would win. I took my daughter to the polls with me - so that she could be part of voting for our 1st woman president.
And then as the night wore on and I sat with my wife in our living room watching the results unfold the tears came with a vengeance. I sobbed into my wife's chest about my fears for our family and our friends and our daughters. I tried to sleep that night, but honestly there wasn't much of that.
And then next morning, when my alarm went off in the dark, I pried myself out of bed and carried on. I hugged my sweet darling daughter who delighted in her pancake. I kissed my wife. And I let the tears come.
I pulled it together enough to get my daughter to daycare and get myself to work (although no lie my coworker and I cried on the way to work) But once I got there I just could not hold it together. The tears and the fears and the feelings they just had to come out. I knew I needed to suck the tears back in since I had coworkers and faculty and students coming by all day...
But I just couldn't.
And then I decided I shouldn't.
Because in those moments. I was (and am) legitimately terrified about the outcome of the election. I needed the people around me to see that this decision, this moment, these feelings were real.
I am so scared of the country and world we have created. I am so scared for my daughter and what it means for her to grow up as a girl in this world. And as the daughter of two moms. I am scared for my Muslim friends who have already been living in a place of fear and hatred - that just got exponentially worse. I am scared for my friends of color who's lives and hearts are in danger every single day - who are being told time and time again that they don't matter. I am scared for my differently-able friends who have to hear a bunch of garbage about PC-ness, who's needs and experiences are being invisibilized. I am scared for my undocumented friends who now constantly fear their families being ripped to shreds. I am genuinely scared.
And that fear and loss of hope broke something inside me. This is what many of my friends feel on a regular basis - this disenfranchisement and fear and brokenness. I have not done enough - and for that I am eternally sorry. Know that I am sitting here with you in this discomfort - I'm leaning into it and learning from it. I'm letting my heart break in hopes that it will grow stronger as each scar repairs it.
See these tears my friends. Because they are still coming (and likely will for a long time). Tears are not a sign of weakness - but rather bravery. Tears mean you felt something real and true - and that you let it show.
These tears right now are for grief and fear. But they won't always be. Some day (hopefully sooner rather than later) these tear will transform into action. They will transform into the burning fight that I know is deep down inside of me and always has been (and always will be until we reach utopia).
So today, you can see me cry.
Tomorrow is for relentless LOVE.
Be Brave! I love you!