Last week, on Super Tuesday, I voted in the Florida primary for the first time.

As a lover of democracy, I have been waiting for this moment for, what seems like, my entire life.

But, on March 15, as I walked inside the voter’s booth, clutching my freshly mailed voter ID card, I was unsettled; there was an air of foreboding—dread even—not unlike what Julius Caesar must have felt the morning of the Ides of March. Et tu brute, anybody?

Now, I wasn’t betraying anyone and no one was betraying me, but as I marked my vote for Hillary Clinton, I felt a dull pang in my side—a metaphorical stab wound if you will—because my vote for her was not out of love, or even out admiration. I voted for Hillary because there was no other logical choice for me—and that broke my heart into bits.

It is no great secret that I love Obama—check my Facebook; I will weep ocean-tears when he leaves office—that’s how salty I am. However, I’ve always placed so much hope in Hillary. When she lost in 2008—as she should have—I knew she would run again and, this time, the nation would be ready.

2008 Hillary was my idol—a feminist icon—who might have been smarter than Bill and a hell of a lot tougher. She wasn’t afraid to be wrong—and often was (example: the negative effects of the Glass Segal Act, the disproportionate criminalization of blacks after the in the Crime Bill of 1994, Bill Clinton’s unimpeachable monogamy; okay, yes, that was a tasteless joke, I’m sorry) —but, more importantly, she wasn’t afraid to be right.

But, after 2008, after Obama mobilized voters who had been dismissed, after Obama gained support from demographics who were supposed to flank with Hillary, after media criticized her heavy use of Bill’s political capital (and, let’s face it, easy charm) to benefit her campaign, 2008 Hillary Clinton died.

Now, we have 2016 Hillary, who is anything but an upgrade. She is inauthentic, hypocritical, deceitful — and, if I’m being honest, a little pathetic.

I have no issue with admitting my self-serving ignorance over recent Hillary Clinton scandals. I’m not salient in the details of Benghazi, neither do I completely understand the controversy over her use of private emails. Part of me doesn’t “care” because I want to believe it is being blown out of proportion; most of me doesn’t “know” because I can’t bear it.

But I voted for 2016 Hillary despite the fact that she is problematic as hell. No matter how hard I tried, I wasn’t #feelingthebern.

I knew that Sanders could not, would not, win against the Republican nominee (which will likely be The Donald *shudders*), and also wouldn’t be able to mobilize young voters to the polls like Obama did.

Moreover, in this increasingly uncompromising partisan political climate, socialist policies, no matter how badly we need them, (and we do; don’t get me started on the issues of capitalism—like the fact that it heavily relies on an exploited group of workers, but I digress) are not feasible. The push to enact them decreases Bernie Sander’s electability and the likelihood of him passing legislation would be slim because he would likely face a Republican-controlled House and Senate (who would dismiss him a communist). That’s my main concern with Sanders, which made his millennial train something I could not hop on.

Admit it; Bernie is not Obama, and if Obama couldn’t create a more bipartisan political climate by compromising on liberal legislation, no one can. Except…

Well, a moderate.

Which brings me back to Hillary. Historically, I’ve always loved the Clintons, but liberally, I’ve always been a bit disgruntled by their relative conservatism. Bill and Hillary are moderates—through and through—and no one can tell me otherwise.

Not even 2016 Hillary, because, not unbeknownst to most of you, 2016 Hillary is a bit of a liar.

Left so insecure by her loss to Obama and blindsided by the turnout of young voters (a previously ignored demographic), Hillary (and her campaign) is desperate. So, despite her moderate values (which are what we obviously need in this divisive political climate), Hillary is pretending to be more liberal than she is. Sure, she and Sanders share some values. Sure, she’s more passionate about certain liberal issues (i.e. gun control) than Sanders is, but she’s not leftist. Not leftist at all.

Then there’s her rhetoric.

Now, I have been accused of supporting Hillary because she is a woman, just as I’ve been told that I support Obama because he’s black. Although no one should ever vote for a candidate merely because of their race and gender, why shouldn’t I be allowed to support someone who is more likely to understand my demographic? States with more female legislators tend to have fewer restrictions on abortions, and no one can tell me that that correlation is insignificant. After all, privileged white men have been voting for privileged white men for years and no one says a thing. But that’s beside the point. Bear with me for a second. I’m going somewhere.

Like I said, I don’t believe anyone can invalidate your support of a person based on the fact that they are “too much like you.” However, 2016 Hillary is one of the most problematic American feminists (right after 2010 Taylor Swift) because of her expectation that females “must” vote for her in order to be “true” feminists.

Hillary Clinton has always been accused of “playing the gender card,” especially by conservative media, for her entire political career. Accusing others of using the “gender card,” much like the “race card,” is a problematic metaphor rooted in blatant bigotry to undermine the success of minorities or patronize real obstacles in a whitewashed patriarchal world.

But when I saw that Gloria Steinem, iconic political activist, and Madeleine Albright, the first female secretary of state, stated that women who support Bernie Sanders are not feminist, my already broken heart shattered into a thousand shards.

“There’s a special place in hell for women who don’t help other women,” said Steinman about female Bernie supporters; she later retracted this statement after fervent backlash.

So, yes, Hillary a liar. And a hypocrite. And desperate. So very desperate. (Like, have you seen her Twitter?)

But I can’t vote any other way. In this terrifying presidential race—strikingly different from the race just eight years before—it’s less about voting the best and more about choosing the lesser of the evils.

I feel cheated out of the “first time voter” experience. Sure, my friend and I coordinated in red, white, and blue, showing off our “I Voted” stickers all day. But I wanted to feel impassioned. It’s a little stupid, I know, but I wanted to feel the way I did in middle school when Obama decided to run for office. I wanted to love the person I voted for.

So yeah, #imwithher, but only because there are no better options. #imwithher because Joe Biden decided not to run. #imwithher because I’m hopeful that she’ll be the person she was in 2008. #imwithher, but just barely.