We Were Not Worthy of Hillary Clinton

I feel a sense of loss I’ve never felt before.

I didn’t know it was possible to cry this much. My tears fall for not just me, but women everywhere, for people who have been sexually assaulted, for people of color, for the LGBTQ community, for Muslims, and for everyone who feels afraid, so afraid right now.

And my tears fall hardest of all for the strongest, most resilient, most amazing woman alive—Hillary. The woman who ran for president not once, but twice. The woman who knew what it was to stay poised when attacked, to stand tall in the face of a deeply misogynistic society, to brush off attacks on her hair or her cleavage, and to deliver the most poised speech of all time in the face of losing an election to a bigot, a racist, a rapist, an inexperienced man-handler.

She would have made history. I feel for her. I feel for us.

I don’t feel dramatic when I say that last Tuesday was one of the worst days of my life. I’m sure I’ve said it before, in high school perhaps, after failing a test or getting sick from bad Chinese take-out, or being bullied in that cruelly subtle way 13-year-olds are capable of.

No, this was the worst. Not only has the country told Hillary that her being experienced and qualified and well-mannered and whip-smart isn’t enough, they’ve told us—they’ve told women everywhere—that we don’t really matter, not that much.

We don’t deserve the right to have sexual assault victims taken seriously. We don’t deserve to own our bodies. We don’t deserve to have our accomplishments and our hard work rewarded. We certainly don’t deserve to be president.

But she did. Hillary deserved to be president and we were finally, finally ready to shatter that glass ceiling, and to shatter it hard, with our sore fists aching, blood dripping from our shorn knuckles.

My tears fall for all of us. But now it is time to fight back.