I have been waiting for yesterday for four years. For reasonable and rational to return. For a president to think about the country first, instead of himself. I was waiting for the adults to come home from their extended vacation, to make clear the rules again, to speak in full sentences. I was waiting for a feeling of possibility, which seemed to be obscured by layers and layers of dark clouds, buried in a sea of lies.
My body took it on. My shoulder scrunched up toward the top of my head in a permanent and impenetrable pain, my sleep disrupted. I questioned the country I had taken for granted my whole life. I wondered about my sanity, after so much gaslighting, so many lies said with such conviction. I got used to frustration, to being afraid, to sadness.
From its first inspiring day, the new administration has laid clear its theme: it’s about you, not about us. It’s not about division, it’s about unity. It’s not about lies, it’s about truths. It’s not about anger, it’s about forgiveness. It’s not about dystopia, it’s about hope.
We’re not out of the woods, but we are out of the constant, pelting downpour. The vision is clear. We march toward a more perfect union. Not perfect, more perfect. So grateful.