“What exactly are you afraid of?”
That my LGBTQ friends and family will have their newly won rights slapped out of their hands by folks who don’t think they should have been handed them in the first place.
That my LGBTQ friends and family – especially the young ones – who HAD hope, will lose it, and their lives along with it.
That the KKK, who once subsisted underground but who now proudly celebrates their winning candidate, is emboldened and emblazoned.
That my transgender friends will continue to be openly attacked, intimidated, and discriminated against by folks who now believe they have both a biblical and a governmental mandate to do so.
That people of color, every shade other than white, have just been delivered the message that racist foot-soldiers have been spitting in brown faces for ages – “Your lives don’t matter.”
That families with undocumented immigrants are about to be torn asunder.
That my Muslim friends will continue to be seen and treated as enemy #1.
That victims of sexual abuse, like me, will have to look at him and be triggered daily for the next 4 years, degraded and discounted by the president-elect with his pussy-grabbing excused to “just words” and his power used to silence the abused in his wake.
That women will be criminalized and punished for making heretofore legal health-care decisions regarding their own bodies.
That we women who bashed our skulls against that glass ceiling, hoping to finally, FINALLY break through, now have to watch dazedly as some of our fellow men not just celebrate that denial, but happily replace it again with something maddeningly pristine and successfully shatterproof.
I hear the crying all around me. Little girls. Little boys. Transgender. Grown women. Grown men. Muslims. People of color. All with fears absolutely rooted in past and present realities. So pardon me if I don’t join you in celebrating our democracy or singing a round of Kumbaya right now.
I’m weeping with those who weep.