As a content warning, this doesn’t relate to my site’s usual content. If you’re looking for erotica or discussion on sexuality or writing, this isn’t it. You’ll find plenty of that on other posts here, but this one is for me, tonight.
What happened today was a miracle we’ve been hoping for since 2016. For the first time since Tr*mp took office, a huge percentage of Americans, as well as in other countries around the world, are able to give a collective exhale of relief. People who were marginalized, targeted by hate groups, had promises made to them that were ultimately broken, the forgotten, those who couldn’t breathe, those who had their healthcare taken, who had to ration their insulin, who still don’t have clean water in Flint, MI. All the people whose lives were threatened and targeted because they didn’t fit into a narrow definition of ‘TrUe pAtRiOtS’ led by a cult that couldn’t keep their lies straight, and had the audacity to call these hate groups, ‘fine people’. And for the first time, I was able to look at all the hateful vitriol that’s posted on social media, and not feel my blood pressure rise.
Shortly after hearing the news, I had so much energy and elation in me that I had to go out for a walk and process what had occurred. I watched on my phone as crowds of people were out in the streets, singing united, and socially-distanced, in celebration all over the country, and I couldn’t help but remember the events following the conclusion of the 2016 election. Violence, riots, in-fighting and volleys of hate speech. Being reminded that there are those who will commit violent and evil acts for nothing more than to feel as though they are part of a group that is, somehow, better than the rest of society. As if they live in the upper echelon, and the rest of us are below them.
It has been four years of hurt, disappointment, a nation divided, and a genuine fear for what might happen next week. Especially this year in 2020. It has forced me to put a cap on my heart just so I can get by day-by-day, week-by-week, month-by-month. I’ve donated hundreds of dollars to charities, research, and bail funds for BLM protests. I tried to help raise awareness when people were marginalized, were at risk, in situations where they had no other viable options. Cried and had to step away from social media just to keep the vitriol from eating me up from the inside. Then got up and continued to refute and fact check people in my vanilla life and at day jobs, just to make sure the cult and their conspiracies couldn’t snag another inch of validation. It doesn’t help that half of my family supported the Tr*mp regime, and has recently been cut out of my life completely. It left me with an unhealthy level of apathy.
Then the announcement was made that the fat sack of Cheeto dust lost, and I felt that cap become undone. I keep scrolling through with a smile because I still can’t believe it really happened. I watched an update from Imani Barbarin of Crutches & Spice, and her message just hit me really hard. And I’m just sitting here going through all of these emotions, and I’m reminded that this isn’t over yet. This is only the first step in a long and daunting battle that’s still ongoing. We still need to cleanup the mess left behind. We still need to start listening to the BIPOC voices of our community, and work together to end systemic racism, ableism, the police violence, the domestic terrorism, shootings. But for the first time in a long time, it feels like the flow of terrible things happening might actually start moving in the opposite direction, for once.
For now, yes, we can give a sigh of relief, celebrate, feel our emotions, let it sink in. Then it’s time for the work to begin.