The election of Donald J. Trump as the 47th president of the United States hurt my soul.

I thought America took its ideals seriously. She is not. I thought I had learned my lesson after Trump was elected the 45th president in 2016. I didn’t.

The United States re-elected a convicted felon. The United States re-elected a man who urged his followers to storm the Capitol. The United States re-elected a man who promised to seek revenge against those who opposed him. America voted a sex offender into its highest office.

The United States doesn’t care.

So now neither do I.

I’m washing my Super Woman cape. I’m shaking it. I fold it and put it carefully in my hope chest. I can’t worry about America anymore. I can’t help save democracy. Democracy made its decision. And it was not for the good of all its people.

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He was in the service of one man.

Many of you are happy. Pennsylvania elected Trump. He received more votes statewide than any Republican candidate in history, a performance fueled by working-class voters, including majority-Latino communities and Rust Belt areas. One in five Philadelphians voted for Trump. Pockets matter more than petty and violent rhetoric. Cheap food matters more than serious crime. Lower gas prices matter more than women’s reproductive rights.

Fascism matters more than democracy.

What happens to the souls? What happens to the soul of America?

Despite everything Black women have endured at the hands of this country (slavery, rape, unequal wages, and maternal health disparities, just to name a few), we thought kindness had a chance. We gathered behind Harris. We believed she could win. We thought the best of America would prevail.

How could it not be so? Trump was impeached twice. He treated COVID-19 as if it were a harmless cold. Harris, district attorney, California senator and vice president of the United States, was qualified. She embodied what it meant to be an authentic, hard-working American.

He had an annoying laugh. He had 33 felony charges.

America’s moral compass would win. He had to win.

It wasn’t like that.

It’s over.

The United States made a decision. It’s time to adjust to another four tumultuous years.

All of us (black women and white women, gay and straight, old and young) who In fact We believed in the power of democracy, the good of America, the hope for its future, all of us who believed that America could not (or would not) make the same foolish decision again, should sit down and pour ourselves a glass. of wine, watch a Hallmark movie and let this drama unfold on its own.

This is not our problem. This is what America is. This is what she wants to be.

I pray that hothead Trump doesn’t start World War III. I pray that his crazy economic policies, which include not taxing overtime and tips and slapping tariffs on products made in China, don’t plunge us into an economic depression rivaling the 1930s.

It’s out of my hands now. I accept it. this is what radical acceptance is: the ability to accept things that are out of my control without judging them to reduce suffering. It is what it is.

In his concession speech, Harris He asked his followers to accept the election results. Yes. He promised that the light will remain if we don’t give up and keep fighting.

I won’t give up. I will continue fighting. But not now, not for this United States.

My light has dimmed. If I want to see it shine again, I have to take care of myself.

I am directing my energy inward.

Don’t ask me to rant and gather. Don’t ask me to picket. Remove your pussy hat.

I don’t care if you don’t believe black lives matter. Yo know they do it. I am preserving my Black life. I’m concentrating on my Black work.

I suggest that all of us, especially black women, do the same. Girl, meditate, start your business, write your book, stop putting your dreams on hold. The United States does not want our help. Let her solve this mess on her own.

We no longer have a choice.

We can only follow our dreams.

Put ourselves first.

And let’s save our layers.