Last week was hard. This weekend was hard. Today is hard. Life has just been really hard recently. I’ve found myself exhausted (physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually, you name it) and have wanted nothing more than to just bury myself in the covers of my bed and stay there until Thanksgiving break. Did I mention that life has been hard?
I’m hesitant to take a political standpoint in such a public column, especially one that is supposed to be a lighthearted take on jumping the many hurdles of life. But frankly, I feel like the emotions and exhaustion I’ve been trying to grapple with are definitely “hurdles,” and I am trying to figure out how I can best jump over them and come to terms with everything that has happened and will continue to happen.
This election has left me a weepy, exhausted mess. I am tired. I am angry. The uncertainty of the future has made me, like many others across the country, afraid. I do not know what will happen to my reproductive rights. I don’t know what’s going to happen to my friends of color, to my friends in the LGBTQ community, to my friends who come from immigrant families. I don’t know what it means that our nation elected someone who has built his campaign on hate and fear. I don’t know.
The current state of our nation and what the future will hold feels so out of my control and it’s hard not to feel helpless, like I am drowning. But despite the fear, despite the anger, despite the sadness, I refuse to sink. Though I’ve felt angry, scared and sad, I refuse to let those emotions dominate and control my life. I refuse to succumb to bitterness and hatred. I will continue to stand up for what I believe is right and spread love and kindness wherever I go.
Though as an individual I may be limited in how I can take action, I know that coming together as a community and connecting with those who are like me, I can raise my voice and make change. Last week, I went to a rally of love and solidarity; nothing felt more powerful than marching in the streets with thousands of other individuals, linking arms and declaring, loudly and proudly, that love will always trump hate.
I may not have control over the outcome of this election. I may not have control over the future. But I do have control over how I react and my outlook, so I’m going to make an effort to put aside my anger and work on understanding. I want to surround my heart with a barrier of love so strong that no hatred will be able to break through. I want to love unabashedly and unwaveringly. I want to reach my hand out to those I do not understand and listen. Our country is more polarized than ever, and on an individual level, it’s up to us to attempt to bridge those gaps, to educate, to love. I do not want to live a life of anger and hatred.
Jumping Hurdles: A heart full of love
