It’s hard to know where to begin. After this election, I find myself confused and hurting, carrying a weight that feels all too familiar. This election was not just a matter of political preference or a debate over policy. It felt like a clear choice between right and wrong, human decency and disregard, and yet, the outcome reminds me how America truly feels about Black women. What does it mean when a choice is made that feels like a rejection of our humanity, of our dreams for a safer, kinder, more just world for our children?
For us, as Black women and mothers, the message is loud, and it cuts deep. It’s a message our mothers and grandmothers heard, and now, our daughters are witnessing it too. My heart broke recently when my daughter came home from school, telling me how kids in her second-grade class were celebrating because “Kamala lost, and her hair looks like poop.” At seven years old, she’s already hearing a message of hatred, and it’s in these small moments that I worry most about what she will internalize. How can I protect her from the weight of a world that does not always see her worth?
This doesn’t feel like a simple difference of opinion; it feels like a question of who is considered worthy of dignity, protection, and respect. And as a mother, it’s become a struggle just to feel safe letting my children play outside or walk into school. I find myself hyper-vigilant, watching for dangers that others may not see, carrying fears that others may never understand.
To my fellow Black women and mothers, I want you to know that it’s okay to feel everything that you’re feeling. Whether that’s disappointment, grief, anger, exhaustion, or all of the above. We do not have to push ourselves to be strong in every moment, to carry this hurt alone, or to pretend it doesn’t hurt us. It’s okay to rest, to breathe, to take all the time we need to process. It’s okay to simply exist, even in a world that too often refuses to see our value no matter how hard we work or how qualified we are.
Our strength is undeniable; it’s in our bones, woven into the fabric of who we are. But right now, we don’t have to carry everything. We don’t have to hold up the world. It’s okay to let ourselves just be, to release the need to constantly hold everyone else up. If you’re feeling the defeat of not having a safe place to fall, please know that you are not alone in that feeling. Our strength is there, but we don’t have to bear it all right now.
Navigating this time and these emotions is not easy, but there are small things we can do to manage the fear and uncertainty. Here are some thoughts, not as solutions, but as small ways to care for yourself as you move through this moment:
1. Acknowledge Your Feelings: Your feelings are real and valid. Allow yourself to feel without judgment. Write, speak, or even just sit with your emotions as they come.
2. Create Safe Spaces: If you can, find spaces where you feel seen and safe, whether with loved ones, online communities, or a therapist who understands. Community is medicine.
3. Practice Mindful Boundaries: Sometimes, disconnecting from the news or social media can be necessary. It’s okay to give yourself permission to step back from conversations that drain you.
4. Ground Yourself in Small Joys: This world may not always feel safe, but small joys are here to remind us of our resilience. Spend time with those who lift your spirits, savor simple moments, and nourish your spirit.
5. Reaffirm Your Worth: Speak to yourself as you would to a friend. You are worthy, you are qualified, you are enough. Repeat this as often as you need.
At Raising Resilience, we are here to remind you that you are seen, valued, and deeply worthy. We believe in you and your ability to keep going, even when it feels impossible. Your dreams, your value, and your worth do not change based on one outcome, one election, or one message. You are not defined by anyone else’s refusal to see you.
As I close, I want to share a text that my mother-in-law sent to her granddaughters—a message that I think we all need to hear right now:
For my grandgirls:
WE FOUGHT, WE HOPED, WE WILL BE ALRIGHT.
It’s okay to be disappointed, to be scared, and to be tired.
Even now, in this moment of disappointment, I know we will continue to rise. We always do.
Though we may be disappointed, we are not broken. We are still here, and we are still powerful.
Remind them that our dreams are worth fighting for, that they are worthy, and that they can and should always aim for the stars.
Remind them that our strength is not defined by one outcome. They will learn that even when we don’t win, we don’t stop, we don’t give up.
We keep going. Because that’s what we do. That’s who we are.
To all my sisters reading this, know that we are still here. We are still powerful. We will keep going, together.
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