Election Trauma

We took this photograph yesterday, our reflections so different than the photo we would have taken today. Shocked and dismayed by the results of the election, we stumbled along streets which yesterday seemed welcoming and today seemed empty of interest or meaning. The jumbled pavements, the beaten down houses, the grey air. Old trauma from a violent beating I received from my ex-husband rose up from the depths of me, paralyzing and frightening. I swung from being overcome by weeping to being overcome by red-hot anger, which gave way to feeling numb and disassociated. It was a painful day, but we were not alone, which was such a relief as I navigated my emotions. The woman behind the counter who helped me count my money, the young woman in the coffee shop who said, "That is why I am wearing black today." The two young gay men in the cafe who were struggling themselves to understand how the tide had turned in such an ominous direction, and the waitress who said, "They can't force us back in. We're going to stand our ground." She penned a note at the bottom of our check which read, "Let us gather our instruments, our weapons, our tools, and continue without fear along the path we were born to forge. Light the way."