On the night of Trump’s first victory in 2016, conservative woman Caitlin Quattromani knew that her liberal friend Lauran Arledge down the street was hurting. There wasn’t anything she could do to make her friend’s fears and frustrations evaporate. But, Caitlin decided to at least send this text:
For years after, Lauran would recount how meaningful this unlikely comfort from her political opposite in their Colorado neighborhood was — strengthening their friendship in the same moment so many others across the country were feeling newly estranged. “Where there could so easily have been weeks and months of awkwardness and unspoken hostility,” she said, this message reminded her “we can make it through this.”
The emotional shock since election night is equally real for many Americans after a second Trump victory. After weeks of prognostications about “razor thin” margins, few expected a result this clear or this quickly.
The dramatic clarity of results surely adds to the sting of defeat for those who had dearly hoped for a Harris victory. Late on election evening, New York Times columnist Michelle Goldberg conceded it wasn’t looking good for her preferred candidate — admitting “there’s obviously been no repudiation of Trump, which fills me with unutterable despair.”
David Gonzalez, a college student originally from Mexico, wrote about how each exit poll coming in felt “like a punch to the gut” — admitting, “I am scared for people who look like me, for those living in border communities, and for U.S. citizens — including my family members — who don’t speak English.” He worries that his loved one will have to “live in constant fear, wondering if today or tomorrow will be the day they’re torn away from their homes, families and friends.”
“I’ve cried a lot today,” said Matthew Nekritz. “Dread fills me.” Another student, Jasmine Wynn, spoke of “sickening fear.”
The level of fear and sorrow has been intense and palpable for many since results became clear. “For every person excited about Trump returning to the White House and carrying the Republican banner,” my colleague Jennifer Graham wrote the morning after the election, “there is a neighbor or a family member genuinely afraid about where America goes from here.”
Of course, the fears and frustrations of voters who brought Trump back to office matter just as much. Amidst their own understandable excitement this week, it’s still worth asking: Can the universality of fear and suffering still be a means of bringing us together?
A friend in New York texted me that same morning, “I would appreciate your prayers for the safety of me and all other trans and gender nonconforming people over the coming years.”
I don’t share this friend’s belief that his life will be personally threatened during Trump’s second presidency. But that’s not what matters here. Since I really care about this individual, the fact that he does feel this fear means something to me — making me want to somehow carry it in proxy.
It will be natural for some to want to do something else instead, diving into explanations for why any or all of these fears are misplaced or exaggerated. But let’s be honest. When was the last time it helped you to be told all the reasons you shouldn’t feel what you were feeling?
Sadly, we’ve also become accustomed to jokes and mockery across the political spectrum when fears or frustrations are shared, along with sneering remarks and gloating whenever a political advantage is gained by one side or another. One conservative influencer posted a TikTok of an African American woman yelling in frustration with the results, along with his caption, “Straight into my veins, please…”
Resist all of that. If we care for the well-being of our nation as a whole, the aching disappointment and distress of close to 66 million Americans should be taken seriously — including if you’re among those who are celebrating Trump’s victory.
Of course, the fears extend beyond American borders too. One Ukrainian woman living in Poland told Euronews earlier this summer that for her, a Trump victory this fall would feel like “the end of the world.”
When any of us are hurting, sometimes just having someone aware of the pain makes it a little less painful. Scientifically speaking, empathy has been shown to help in “enabling (the) sharing of experiences, needs, and desires between individuals” and “providing an emotional bridge” in a way that helps strengthen attachment and healthy bonds in a community.
This kind of empathy, it’s worth pointing out, is not the same as agreement or validation — an important clarification for those who understandably worry that showing empathy or compassion can harm someone else by reinforcing a wrong idea.
This makes sense, since we’re all well aware of how irrational any of our fears can sometimes be. More time and conversation will reveal whether that is the case for any of these fears. In the meanwhile, know that it’s possible to show deep empathy at the very same time you hold deep (and open) disagreement. This happens in healthy friendships and families all the time.
In addition to sorrow and fear, many others this week are just plain confused. After hearing about now President-elect Trump’s remarks about uniting the country in his victory speech, Liz Joyner admits, “to me, that feels unfathomable.” After working for a decade trying to bring liberals and conservatives together at The Village Square, this national peacemaker confesses she “cannot grasp” why the majority of Americans voted for a second Trump term, given his often divisive rhetoric.
To her credit, Vice President Harris showed grace in her concession speech Wednesday. “Do not despair,” she told her supporters. “It’s going to be okay.” She also encouraged those listening to not “ever stop trying to make the world a better place.”
Plenty of fear, sorrow and confusion will remain for many, naturally connected with larger beliefs about what will, or won’t happen, now that Trump will be returning to the presidency. The debate about how legitimate these fears are will continue as the democratic transition proceeds.
What’s not disputable is the fact that many people are hurting right now — with an emotional burden that’s real and heavy. That includes some religious voters in Utah who are feeling deflated after supporting Harris. “If not for an absolute trust in Jesus, I would be in despair this morning,” Wally Goddard told me, a devoted Latter-day Saint who voted for Harris after concluding that she best represented the decency and character of someone he’d want to be leading the nation.
“My view is we’re in the Lord’s hands. It’s hard to imagine what this would be like without that hope,” he admitted — “because then there’s nothing to hold onto.”
For those not currently feeling this kind of higher reassurance, hopefully they can feel encouraged by the real human beings around them in the days ahead. No matter how you voted, make sure we’re one of those people this week.