Whenever I’m sad or scared or angry or excited or confused, I write. I don’t always recognize that that’s what I’m doing; sometimes my writing is in the form of a letter that I never send to someone I’ve hurt or who’s hurt me, sometimes it’s a quick note jotted down at the end of a long day, but often it’s just a composition in my head as I fall asleep. Now I have you beautiful people, who are kind enough to read the things I write and give me an outlet. So while many people far more eloquent than I have already given and will continue to give you their thoughts on this election, I find myself putting pen to paper (or in this case, fingers to keys). I hope that something I say will help you, but if it doesn’t, please know that just by reading this, you’re helping me. And for that I thank you.

America made a mistake on Tuesday night. It isn’t the first mistake we’ve made and it certainly won’t be the last, but knowing that doesn’t make it hurt less. On Tuesday night, I was too shocked to feel anything. I’d spent all day Tuesday feeling alternately slightly nervous and elated that we would soon be electing our first female president. I didn’t in any way prepare for the possibility that that might not happen. I know I’m not the only one.

Yesterday, the numbness wore off. I held back tears as I drove to work. I excused myself to the bathroom and stood in a stall and cried silent tears after reading highlights from Hillary Clinton’s concession speech. I talked to coworkers and family and friends. I felt better, I felt worse, I felt depressed, and I felt hopeful. I turned on the radio on my drive home, heard a couple songs with especially resonant lyrics, and sobbed in my car. As I write this, my eyes are burning with spent as well as unfallen tears.

I suspect that many of the people reading this – maybe even everyone – are Hillary Clinton voters, or at the very least Never Trumpers, so I’m speaking to you. I’ve heard a lot about how this is the end of America as we know it, how the results Tuesday night spell the end of democracy and civil discourse, how we’d all be better off leaving the country. These things are only true if we let them be. Tuesday night was not a loss, but a setback. It’s a sign that a new fight is beginning, and just as we’ve won fights in the past to end slavery, grant women the right to vote, and end segregation, so too shall we win this fight. This is not the end. It is the beginning of a new fight.

It’s easy to see Tuesday’s results as a victory for hate – racism, xenophobia, misogyny, homophobia, etc. have been everywhere in this election. I can’t tell you that people didn’t vote based on hatred, because many people did. But for many more, their votes for Trump on Tuesday night were about fear. Fear that their children will be worse off than they are. Fear that they’re being left behind. Fear of terrorism in general and ISIS in particular. Many Trump voters aren’t hateful, they’re just terrified.

Now the tables have turned and it’s us who are fearful. I won’t tell you that you shouldn’t be; hate crimes may raise as they did in the UK following Brexit, no one knows what the next four years will hold, and these are uncertain and scary times. Be vigilant and stay safe. But what I will tell you is this: Don’t let your fear make you small. Don’t let it control you. Don’t let it make you afraid to speak out against injustice. Don’t let it make you hold back because you think you can’t make a difference. Don’t let it cause you to pull the blinds and pretend the world outside isn’t there.

This election was awful. Take all the time you need to grieve. Scream, vent, punch a pillow, wallow, binge-watch your favorite tv show, and cry. Cry for all the dreams you thought you’d see come true that now have to wait a little longer. Cry for your minority friends and family who are as scared as they’ve ever been. Cry for all the people who made a rash decision based on fear. And then pick yourself up off the mat and live to fight another day.

I know there’s a lot of talk about 2020, but remember that midterm elections are a big part of how we got into this mess. 2018 will be an important year. Show up, knock doors, make calls, donate, talk to your family and friends and make sure they vote, work the polls, and if you’re in a position to do so, run for office yourself. We don’t have to put up with this for four years if we can take back the Senate, or even the House, in 2018. And in the meantime, do all that you can to make the world a better, kinder, more generous place. Tell your family and friends you love them. Explain to the Trump-supporters in your life why you’re upset and then try to forgive them. Donate to or volunteer with the organizations that will be fighting for the causes you care about.

This is not the end, people. This is a new beginning. And we have work to do.

– Carley