This morning, I woke up hopeless.

I cannot go 20 minutes without crying, and I have not been able to stop since I woke up in tears this morning. 

My power was out all night and, thanks to my nonstop switching between 270toWin, AP, CNN, and Reuters counts, I fell asleep with a pain in my chest and eyes red from staring at that same screen since 5 p.m. 

I woke up to a dead phone and no WiFi to continue my doomscroll. 

I stared blankly at my ceiling as I began to cry for the first time, of many, today. I didn’t need to see any notifications or updates to know that during my sleep, Trump won. 

And we lost.

We lost the comfort of Project 2025 being just a frightening fantasy. We lost control of the House of Representatives and the Senate. We lost our chance to keep a fascist out of the White House, where he will now do everything in his power to dismantle democracy.

Fascism and authoritarianism, the very ideals Trump thrives on, prey on loneliness. It finds its power by stealing it from those who feel forgotten and ignored. When people don’t have a community to turn to, it becomes much easier to believe the person who says they will solve all of their problems. This is what we are seeing in this election.

We cannot allow the people in our country to feel lonely enough to look to one person to “solve” the issues that Trump claims our country is falling apart from. Immigrants are not terrorists who eat cats and dogs. The LQBTQIA+ community is not filled with predators. Women do not want to be grabbed by the pussy — nor do we want to die bleeding out in the parking lot of a hospital.

As someone who proudly lives on the U.S./Mexico border in Calexico, I know how hard-working the community is and the struggles we go through daily merely to survive. As someone who is part of the LQBTQ+ community, I know that it’s full of immense love. As a woman, I know that I want my body to be treated with the same respect that men’s bodies are.

As I began to read the notifications I dreaded so desperately, the headlines were broken up by texts from loved ones. Some were anxious as results came in, others were hopeless that came after the race had been called. But those that came from my peers at City on a Hill Press are what got me out of bed.

As I stood in front of the Press Center doors where, for the past three years of my life, I have found the community of people who give me the strength to persevere, I could not bring myself to do the same. 

As the Press Center filled with people, so did the intensity of our emotions. Our shoulders hunched, heads hanging low, eyes sad and tired.

How could this have happened? What does this mean for our future? What is going to happen to our loved ones whose rights are directly now under attack?

The tension broke when I saw one of our reporters, Maya, walk in with a pint of ice cream, her favorite Milk and Cookies flavor, and a shaky smile on her face. 

With that, my dam of inertia cracked and poured open as I cried tears — this time filled with joy rather than sorrow. And it wasn’t because of the Ben ‘n Jerry’s she brought with her. 

The gesture was a much larger reminder of the community that surrounds me. Regardless of the time spent apart or together, we will always be there for each other. 

That is why I am able to write this column. Because of the people who surround me, who have come before me, and who will come after me. Because of those who continue to put in the work for all of us to continue. 

This morning, I woke up hopeless.

Tonight, I will go to bed with the fuel in my heart reignited.