Post-Election Feels as a Black Woman

It’s been over a week since election day, but the weight of it still lingers. For Black women, casting a vote is so much more than a civic duty—it’s an act that carries the voices of our ancestors, those who fought and sacrificed for our right to be heard. Every trip to the ballot box holds generations of struggle, resilience, and hope. And yet, this season, as the results settle, we’re reminded of the prejudice that still runs deep. People around us, so close, are revealing their true colors, openly telling minorities to “go back”, meet at the plantation to pick cotton, or expressing hateful views that usually stay hidden. It’s a painful reminder that, despite all our progress, so much of this country still doesn’t truly see us.

Election seasons often stir emotions that go beyond the polls. It’s not just about casting a vote—it’s about carrying the weight of our history. We feel the burden of our ancestors’ struggles, their determination to secure a future where we could have a voice. But it’s more than just honoring their fight; it’s about recognizing the sacrifices they made so that we could be here today. And as we stand in line, ready to cast our ballots, we also carry the frustration of knowing that the fight is far from over. The truth is, no matter how many elections we show up for, no matter how loud our voices get, there are still forces out there determined to push us back, to silence us. It's a challenge that never seems to let up, no matter how hard we try to move forward.

In these post-election days, I’m giving myself permission to pause. To feel the frustration without shame. To acknowledge the exhaustion without needing to “push through” right away. We deserve a moment to breathe, to process the complexity of what it means to show up time and again for a world that doesn’t always show up for us. We deserve space to simply be human, to feel the weight of it all without having to justify it. For me, that means stepping back and protecting my peace—taking the time to regroup, reflect, and find comfort in the love and strength of my community.

There’s a unique exhaustion that comes with showing up, especially when it feels like you’re giving everything to a system that doesn’t always give back. The comments we hear, the subtle—and sometimes not-so-subtle—reminders that we’re still seen as “other,” cut deep. It’s not just the offensive remarks from strangers, but the realization that, even in moments of progress, we still carry the burden of constantly fighting for recognition, respect, and equality. These moments weigh on us emotionally and mentally, affecting our well-being in ways that can be hard to explain. It’s not just about being tired; it’s about feeling defeated at times by forces that seem unyielding.

And yet, despite the weight of it all, there’s a quiet but unshakeable resolve that lives within us. We continue to rise. We continue to show up. Even when it feels like we’re fighting a never-ending battle, there’s power in our persistence. As Black women, we have always been resilient, finding strength not just in ourselves but in the community we create and nurture together. We hold each other up, offering solace, understanding, and love when the world outside feels cold and distant.

This post-election period is not about rushing to find relief or jumping straight into celebration; it’s about navigating the mix of fatigue, frustration, and resilience. We’ve earned the right to feel every part of this moment, without rushing to feel better. And as Black women, we’ve been here before. We’ve carried this weight before, and we know that though the road is long, our journey is never in vain. We continue to rise, even when it feels like the world is pushing back.

There are different perspectives that can be represented here.  It can be everything from Hispanics, LGBT, other women- I’m merely writing this from a black woman’s perspective. 😉

So to every Black woman reading this: let yourself feel what you need to feel. Protect your peace. Lean on one another. And remember, there is strength in our shared journey, and power in our continued presence. Together, we’ll rest, regroup, and rise again—because that’s who we are.