My heart hurts.

As I write this, it's the morning after Donald Trump won. And I'm sad. I am beyond sad. I am somewhere else. I am grieving.

I am so sorry, to the people who feel like America has rejected them.

To the people who feel like a nation has told them they are not enough.

That they aren't people.

That they are less than.

I am so sorry, from the bottom of my soul.

I have nothing to give to you but love. But support. But a promise that I will help to keep you safe.

I don't know how to react, and it aches in the pit of my stomach. I don't understand. And on some level, I don't want to. Not right now. Don't tell me, right now. Let me have my space to comprehend.

I can march in rallies and protests and scream and shout and throw things.

And I've done all those things.

And I don't know where to go from here.

What do you say to the people who feel like America has rejected them?

How do you comfort someone who feels like they've lost everything?

I am not a minority. My life won't be drastically changed by this. I had the privilege and blind luck to be born on the right side of an imaginary line. I was born with skin that society tells me is superior. Nobody will question my right to be in this country. Nobody will tell me my religion makes me a national threat.

But still my heart is breaking. For my brothers and sisters who are afraid, for the people already facing the hateful backlash of our country's decision. I hurt for you, and I hurt with you. I don't believe in this.

As a woman, this election feels like someone spat in my face. As a woman, I can't stop thinking about "grab em by the pussy". I can't stop thinking that the safety and sanctity of my body doesn't matter to some. As a woman, I am taken aback by how many people must have ignored rape accusations. I am confused as to how a nation that reacted so violently to Brock Turner could vote a more saggy and more orange version of him into office.

But at the same time,

as a woman,

Part of me isn't even surprised.

I'm afraid we won't remember. I'm worried a lot of us, us who will make it out the other end shaken but not bloody, us who are not as affected, us who really will be okay, will forget. But we can't. We can't forget that we didn't defend our POC when it counted. I will never forget how badly white women failed women of color.

It isn't enough right now to say "sorry". And while I am sorry, I can't just be sorry and move on.

We pulled the rug out from under every minority in America when we let this happen. We said racism wasn't real and then elected someone who wants to keep tabs on every Muslim, just in case they're a terrorist.

We can't get our feelings hurt when we are told that what we've done is wrong.

I don't care if it damages your fragile sensibilities when someone says you're being racist.

You probably are.

So pick yourself off the goddamn ground and brush yourself off and say that you will no longer be complacent in the systematic disenfranchisement of people of color.

So to anyone who cares enough to read;

I'm sorry.

I love you.

And if your voice gets tired, I'll give you mine.