a retro on election feelings

a thing I wrote immediately following the election in Nov 2024, and a little follow-up wtf

This first part I wrote shortly after the election results became clear in November 2024. And then I had to put it away because spending too much time in all of our ragey feels over all of this is bad. I found it again this week, and it made me sad and mad and also I wanted to see what would happen if I use it as a jumping off point to reflect on the last horrific 100 days of so-called governing. Grab a coffee. Or a shot of whiskey, domestic, because hashtag tariffs, and let’s go.

WELL holy shit. Not me writing another “…what the fuck just happened!?” essay.

The week of the election, I was on a cruise with my family - including little boys and both sets of grandparents. It was A TIME. The cruise ship was gigantic. Frighteningly so, if I let myself contemplate the size of it and the logistics too much. But huge, and beautiful, and fun, mostly. We had a room with a balcony so it was nice to have that “alone” space when the 5k other people got to be too much. Hot tip though, going on a trip with just one small room + no wifi or baby monitor capabilities and a kid who still naps is sort of a bummer.

ANYWAY. So can’t lie, it was pretty tough to be on this trip at this particular time in history. Politics (aka, the policies that shape our everyday lives and quality of those lives) is not a thing much discussed in my fam. It’s still considered impolite, or whatever, and it’s just Not A Done Thing (can America adopt this phrase from the Brits, please? I love it so much). So on Wednesday, after learning the results from someone else who had wifi, I stewed. All day. I was a gigantic crockpot of emotion - mostly rage - quietly bubbling all day, all my steam trapped inside, but my exterior still shiny and clean since my dish had not been served yet. Lid not yet open, no spillage or drips from sloppy spooning or stirring.

And then it stayed like that for the entire week. Every time I spotted a Trump shirt or hat, every time I saw a man in a graphic tank top with some variety of eagle, American flag, r*fle, or whatever other nonsense supposedly demonstrating his supposed patriotism, the lid was clamped tighter with a bungee cord, cook time added, pressure increasing.

And I think we all know what happens to food that stays in a crockpot for too long. No? The answer is: it dries up. It tastes nasty. It is cooked to DEATH. It is well and above safe eating temperatures. Nobody wants to eat whatever it is that has dried up inside a crockpot after way too many hours, whatever moisture having long evaporated into steam. It is the turkey from Christmas Vacation, hissing and hollow.

This metaphor is great but I fear it will break down if I try to continue.

So…day by day, I became a nasty tasting, dried up…liberal? LOL yeah I knew I needed to end it. [Is it irony or just a coincidence that this is an insult that conservative men frequently throw at women they feel threatened by aka feminists? As if being “dried up” is the worst thing that could happen to a woman.]

Nothing really helped either. Adding salt would only make it worse. No broth to be had anywhere. It just festered. I stared at every person and family I walked past. I glared at people with any kind of stereotypical garb about which I was making assumptions (they were probably correct assumptions but I don’t want to leave it unsaid that they were assumptions). I watched Black families having the time of their lives and wondered what they thought of the results, I wondered if they felt uncomfortable seeing what I consider to be evidence of discrimination, small-mindedness, and racism, so plainly on display. [Hi lol as if POC folks do not see signs of this, experience acts of this, are victims of this in every-day life, every day of their life, regardless of some election results.] I heard Latinx families singing and saw dancing and wondered who did the patriarch of that family vote for? Who did the women vote for? Are they single-issue anti-choice voters? Are they afraid of what might happen to them or their families? Whose fault is it that this asshole was elected??

All week, I witnessed that unfettered vacation-specific joy that all families experience, from families of all sizes, shapes, colors, creed. I saw hijab, I saw booty. I saw two moms, two dads, single parents. On a ship of roughly 5000 guests, I saw what I came to think of as a slice of many parts of America (still parts which were able to pay money to be on this gigantic and not-cheap ship, so yeah it’s not a slice from every part obviously), and I could not wrap my head around the who and the how of the results.

At my home, in my city, we are in a nice mostly blue or at least blue-leaning purple. Indigo, perhaps. And I have been reminded a LOT this year that my bubble is exactly that: a bubble. Of idealism. Of privilege. Of education. Of higher-than-average educated citizens. And it was perhaps naive of me to be so in my bubble? That I didn’t anticipate the results. It didn’t enter my brain that these would be the results. So being NOT inside my indigo bubble when the results were so upsetting to me, was difficult.

At home, I could have commiserated with my neighbors, texted friends, doom-scrolled funny-not-funny memes about the America-to-Gilead pipeline, and laugh-sobbed into my phone screen. I could have let some of my steam escape safely by ranting on instagram and having a reasonable expectation that those who saw my rants agree with me, and my feelings would have been validated. Validated feelings are so underrated when it comes to stemming rage and lowering the tension and chaos that being dysregulated can cause.

Instead, I heard about how the markets loved the results. I overheard someone say “he seems like a guy you could get a beer with,” as if a fraudulent billionaire liar is a chill dude who just loves a Bud heavy on draft at the local Buffalo Wild Wings. COME ON, LARRY. As if having a beer with a guy is an actual good and valid reason to vote for him to be the top governmental official of the highest GDP country in the world and potentially the most complex and convoluted social dynamics across a huge and also diverse landmass. GET IT TOGETHER, LARRY.

Fast forward to now, May 2025. 100 days into the administration, and my questions still stand, with a lot more caveats and follow-ups. Families are being deported, for no reason. DEI aka civil rights in the workplace are being rolled back or removed completely, to appease a man who is CLEARLY deranged, and never had his own feelings validated as a child and now is a dangerous toxic narcissist.

I told MP recently that I was scared. I have been scared but it ramps up week by week, day by day, every horrifying and idiotic executive order and fraudulent arrest made. Every time anyone in the government is like “what’s due process,” while they blatantly and egregiously deny constitutional rights to people.

And my kid still wants to play hockey and tball, so I gotta pay attention to the signup deadlines and pay the fees. I gotta make sure he has athletic gear that fits him. Gotta order or buy it from somewhere that’s not Amazon, as if that actually does anything (it does, but not much). The Carolina Hurricanes are in the playoffs and I gotta make sure my sweatshirts are clean and that we have a babysitter so we can go have some fun watching them kick ass on the ice while drinking $20 cocktails.

We are having fun, we are making plans like normal, we are having friends over, we are heading to the park, we are running errands and buying groceries, we are putting gas in the car, we are clearing a blockage in the robot vacuum so it can run again tonight, we are contemplating what’s for dinner, we are packing lunches, we are texting the sitter, we are buying plan tickets for vacation later this year, we are excited for a friend’s wedding in the fall, we are attending birthday parties, we are planning coffee dates with friends, we are trying to remember to shave our legs, we are switching out the laundry, again, we are walking the dog and buying her medicine, we are making sure the swim suits fit because summer is coming.

And we are scared, and we are freaking out a few minutes at a time every single day. And we are teaching our boys to ask permission, and we are teaching the kids that love is love and yes boys CAN marry boys if they want, and we are wondering when do we start getting worried that the beef is not safe, that the milk is not tested, that the cereal has sawdust in it, that the produce is not ok to consume. How will we know, when will we know, who do we ask, how can we find out, should we be doing our own research? When should we cave and finally get our own chickens?

And we call our board certified psychiatrist and we get a refill on the sertraline and we head to Walgreens - who has kept their DEI policies in place as of this writing - and we pick it up along with some Haribo gummy bears because aren’t those manufactured in Germany? Should be safe. Guess we should enjoy them while we can? Or is it just China-based goods that will go away or get crazy expensive? How much would I be willing to pay for gummy bears? I am afraid the answer is rather a lot.

And then we drink some water and actually take the sertraline and try to feel it working it’s way through our nervous system and contemplate how to chill the fuck out, because having a freak out like this every minute, every hour, and every day for the next 100 days and the 100 days after that …is not sustainable.

Be well, my friends. Take your stand however you find sustainable and possible. We can only do what we can! And call your reps! And get a hug from someone.

K. No cute from-behind pics of my kids this week because we deserve cute things but this topic does NOT deserve cute things. LOVEYOUBYE.