I'm so tired.

There's nothing quite like getting back to your dorm room after class the Wednesday after an election and having your roommate- who never cries- completely dissolve into tears. I can't fully explain the punch in the gut I felt when I thought about all the LGBT+ people I know who might not have a right to marry in a few months. I don't know what to tell the little girls I've babysat who have to hear their future president demean and belittle their gender. There is no way to comfort my Muslim friend who is legitimately and understandably scared for her safety. I may not fall into many of the groups Donald Trump has attacked and threatened during this campaign, but I have friends and acquaintances in all of them, and I am afraid.

I am afraid that we are all underestimating the potential effects he might have on our world standing. I know that we have wildly miscalculated the amount of hate and bigotry his election would introduce. How can I take refuge in the idea that "maybe he won't be that bad" when his supporters are calling people the n-word and yelling homophobic slurs? Where's the relief in not knowing if I and many other women will have access to reproductive healthcare a year from now? The fact of the matter is that unless you are a part of a group directly attacked by Trump, it is difficult to understand why others are so afraid. I get it! Psychology has proven that understanding and sympathizing with the situations of others is notoriously hard for all human beings. Sometimes understanding the fear is hard. Let me help.

I want you to imagine this scenario: you wake up one morning during the campaign and check your phone. There's a CNN alert with the words "Donald Trump calls non-millionaire whites 'rapists' and threatens to deport them during his first 100 days in office." You'd be at least somewhat concerned for your safety and the safety of your family, right? It'd be a very understandable and normal reaction to be frightened and want to at least try to stop this from occurring. If he was then elected, you'd be even more concerned. You'd want to protest. You'd want to take to social media to refute his statements and stand up for yourself.

That's how millions of people across the U.S. have felt during this entire campaign.

I am afraid for myself, and I am afraid for my friends. I am afraid for the people who I wanted to help- who needed help- and yet might face new discrimination in the wake of Trump's election. I am afraid for the direction our country is taking, and I am afraid for where our world will be four years from now. I have spent the past year fighting the urge to crawl into bed and not come out.

And yet, even in the midst of my fear, I am trying to find the strength to stand up and protect what I hold dear. It's a process- and by no means an easy one- but the next step after the initial emotional reaction is action. I cannot go back and change the election, as much as I wish I could. I can't even change the minds of my family members or friends. No matter how you feel about the election, the next step is action.

It's okay to be scared. It's okay to be disappointed. It's okay to be tired. Once you feel ready, however, let that compel you to action. After all, as one of my former teachers and role models once said, "We are always in the middle of making history." You could be the one to make history. Keep striving.