Tears, Conversations, and Election Results: A Week of Surprises

Last week was full of interesting, deep, and soulful conversations—many of them unexpected, vulnerable, and civil. I was surprised by how thoughtful and respectful people were, even as we discussed difficult topics like the election and the state of the country.

I went to bed early on election night, not knowing the outcome. Wednesday morning, I followed my usual routine: journaling, meditating, writing. Only after did I check my phone, taking a deep breath before Googling, “Who won the election?”

To my shock, Trump had won by a large margin. The day before, my husband, daughter, and I had gone to the lodge to vote. My husband and daughter voted for Trump with confidence. As for me, I wished he would just shut up and be a decent person, but I believed he was the better choice for the economy and foreign policy.

After learning about the election results, I found myself crying. It started with disbelief—he won, but he’s not a nice person—and turned into waves of tears throughout the day. I came back from my morning walk sobbing. My husband looked at me, confused, but wrapped me in a big hug. I wasn’t sure what I was even crying about, but the tears kept coming. Maybe it was the relief that this pre-election tension was finally over. I reached out to friends to process what had happened. As the week went on, the tears lessened, but even now, they linger.

I hadn’t anticipated this outcome. I expected more of the past election chaos—contested results, hanging chads, missing votes. Instead, Trump had won outright, fair and square, with the map showing so much red. The press had led us to believe it would be too close to call, but they were wrong.

What followed was a flood of emotions. I reached out to Sue, my life coach in England, who knows me better than anyone. I left her a Voxer message, initially coherent but soon breaking down into sobs. I told her I was heartbroken that we had elected someone who was not “nice.” Yet, I felt we had chosen someone who could turn the economy around. Sue, as always, was a comforting voice, reminding me to give myself space to feel my feelings. So, I cried on and off all morning.

Next, I reached out to some new friends I’d made over the past eight months. We’re different in age, background, and religion, but we’ve created a safe space for exploring our spiritual and world views. These friendships have helped me grow. Our conversations have been honest and open—so I was curious about their reactions. To my surprise, one had voted for Trump, while the other, a Mennonite pastor, was discreet about his vote, though he was still processing the results himself.

Throughout the week, I had unexpectedly civil conversations with people I wouldn’t have expected to be so kind—my parents, my closest friends, my husband, my neighbors. Their votes were varied: some for Trump, some for Kamala, and one for the Green Party. I had feared heated arguments, but instead, there was calm acceptance.

My parents, who had previously mocked Trump supporters, didn’t lash out this time. Instead, they were civil, and I felt a sense of relief. Even though we didn’t agree, we could talk.

This wasn’t the case in 2008 when Obama was elected. I had been angry, uncertain of what the country would look like under his leadership. Back then, I wasn’t as open-minded as I am today. I couldn’t see past my own fears and biases. But now, I’m proud of how much I’ve grown. I can accept people and their views, see them for who they are, and observe without judgment.

There were conversations about Matthew 5-7, the Constitution, and fears about the future. One friend in Utah, where democratic votes often feel like they don’t matter, voiced concerns about whether this election would reveal or address the underlying racism in America.

I’m still processing all of this. My tears have transformed into something else—a mix of relief that the election is over, confusion about the future, and a strange sense of peace. I don’t watch the news, but the conversations I’ve had seem to reflect acceptance rather than division.

I’m fascinated by how, after such a divisive campaign, we can come together in our small circles to talk, to listen, to try to understand. It feels like a step forward, even if it’s just a small one. I’ve changed so much over the years, and this week showed me that change.

We all want the same things in the end: a strong country, a better economy, and a life where we can feel safe and heard. For now, I’ll hold onto that hope, even if it’s just a whisper.