An Open Letter To Those Grieving Post-Election
The weight of the election on November 5, 2024, has been overbearingly, overwhelmingly heavy.
In the short time that has passed since Election Day, I’ve seen an immense outpouring of anguish from clients in my practice, people all across the country, and even our global neighbors. I’ve also seen many uncompassionate, invalidating, mocking remarks in response to that anguish, from those whose candidate won.
I say this with the utmost respect and compassion: if you fall into the latter category and are celebrating a “win” right now, please know that this post is not meant for you.
This is an open letter to those who are hurting after the election.
My practice operates in 2 states that are blue (Massachusetts, New York), and 2 states that are red (South Carolina, Florida). None of these states “flipped,” which is to say that nothing about their political leanings has fundamentally changed. Yet, anecdotally, the post-election narrative is that a lot HAS changed, catastrophically, and essentially overnight. And with this change comes numerous financial, social, and existential threats.
I’ve seen people in varying degrees of numbness, shock, confusion, dread, despair, sadness, anger, disgust, fear.
I’ve talked to many who feel their losses already piling up: loss of dignity, of justice, of day-to-day safety, of human rights, of security, of hope.
I’ve heard questions like: “How could this happen again?” “How could so many people vote the way they did?” “How could so many people NOT vote at all?” And, last but not least, “What am I supposed to do now?”
Already, there has been plenty of post-election rationalizing and journalistic analyses attempting to answer these questions. Unfortunately, understanding this mentally brings little comfort emotionally.
As a woman, a person of color, and a social justice-oriented ally for the marginalized, believe me when I say that I have been reeling from the outcome as well. I acknowledge that I am privileged to have ended up in a state that (generally) does its best to protect my rights and push progressive policies that align with my professional values. I also know many, MANY others are not so fortunate to live in a place that values their personhood in such fundamentally affirming ways.
In the immediate aftermath of the election, I urge you to hold space for yourself, your pain, and your losses. I encourage you to name grief where it exists, and permit yourself to take however much time is needed for you to truly mourn. While not necessarily catastrophic in the short-term, your losses are very real, and you have every right to feel the way you do.
Your losses are valid, therefore your grief is too.
A brief note about grief
Grief operates on its own timeline, independently from your hopes, wishes, and daily obligations.
Sometimes, grief demands an audience; if that’s the case for you now, please seek out your communities, (re)connect with loved ones, and utilize all available safe supports.
Other times, grief demands privacy, in which case you may feel compelled to withdraw socially, temporarily distract or avoid the pain, self-reflect on your own, or take some downtime to just be in your feelings and regroup emotionally.
I have seen grief underneath every other distressing emotion that has popped up in my practice since the election (see above: numbness, shock, confusion, dread, despair, sadness, anger, disgust, fear).
Anyone who has experienced a major loss will know this to be true: grief is not an emotion that can just take a backseat, nor can it be silenced indefinitely.
Above all else, perhaps, now is the time to honor grief if it is present for you.
A large part of my job as a therapist is to create and hold safe, non-judgmental space for clients to show up with whatever feelings are present on any given day — grief or otherwise.
Sadly, these spaces don’t always exist, depending on what state you’re in (literally) and the strength of your existing support networks. But I want to emphasize that even if you are not working with a mental health professional, it is still within your power to connect with people who value the same things you do, and to hold safe spaces to grieve and rally around each other. Not only that, it is especially important to do so in times like these.
It is absolutely okay — dare I say “normal” — if you struggle with all of the above right now. You may not have the capacity to do more at this time. That will not be the case forever. There will come a moment when you feel more hopeful, more compelled to take action of some sort, whether in your own life or for a larger cause. In the meantime, please remember that you are NOT alone in your pain, or in your hopes. And you need not be alone when it comes to taking action, either.
In parting, I leave you with this quote about hope and the power to act in the face of uncertainty, which I am holding near and dear to my therapist heart this week. I hope it brings some comfort, solace, and meaningful intention to whoever may need to see it:
Image text:
“Hope locates itself in the premises that we don’t know what will happen and that in the spaciousness of uncertainty is room to act. When you recognize uncertainty, you recognize that you may be able to influence the outcomes—you alone or you in concert with a few dozen or several million others. Hope is an embrace of the unknown and the unknowable, an alternative to the certainty of both optimists and pessimists. Optimists think it will all be fine without our involvement; pessimists take the opposite position; both excuse themselves from acting. It’s the belief that what we do matters even though how and when it may matter, who and what it may impact, are not things we can know beforehand. We may not, in fact, know them afterward either, but they matter all the same, and history is full of people whose influence was most powerful after they were gone.” —Rebecca Solnit (Hope in the Dark: Untold Histories, Wild Possibilities)
Crisis hotlines and additional resources
National Suicide & Crisis Lifeline: 988 or www.988lifline.org
NAMI (National Alliance on Mental Illness) Crisis Text Line: text “NAMI” to 741-741
SAMHSA (Substance Abuse & Mental Health Services Administration) National Helpline: (800) 662-4357
National Domestic Violence Hotline: (800) 799-SAFE (7233)
The Trevor Project Hotline: (866) 488-7386 or text 678-678
National Sexual Assault Hotline: (800) 656-HOPE (4673)
National Grad Student Crisis Line: (877) 472-3457 — gradresources.org