Dear Friend,
I see you. I see you scrolling at 2 AM with your stomach in knots.
I see you skipping family gatherings because you don’t know how to sit across from people who now feel like strangers.
I see you questioning everything…your relationships, your community, maybe even yourself.
You’re not losing your mind.
You’re grieving.
And my loves, that’s completely normal.
This grief? It’s not just about politics. It’s about something deeper.
It’s about the invisible blueprint we each carry for how the world should work –
How people should treat each other
What fairness looks like
Where we belong
What we can count on
When that blueprint shatters, our nervous systems don’t just register disagreement.
They register danger.
A few days ago, I had one of those conversations that stops you in your tracks.
It started off light…just chit-chat. Then the subject turned political. I mentioned a piece I’d written from a spiritual perspective. Nothing volatile.
But the train had already left the station.
Without warning, she said, “Well, you’re liberal because you’re Black.”
Just like that, I wasn’t a person – I was a stereotype she needed to put back in her place.
I didn’t attack back. I didn’t assume her politics based on her skin. I explained my views. She dismissed them as “fake news.” When I asked where she got her information, she had none.
When she demanded to know what side I was on, I said,
“Humanity’s side.”
That was the end of the conversation.
That moment was political grief in real time.
Not just mine – hers too, wrapped in rage, projection, and the comfort of racism.
And here’s the truth:
Grief doesn’t always look like sadness.
It can show up as rage, denial, defensiveness, or projection.
That doesn’t excuse bad behavior – but it can help us understand the roots.
We are all responsible for our impact even in grief.
If you’re feeling the sting of loss, the weight of truth, the ache of distance from people you once loved, you’re not alone.
You’re grieving a world you thought you lived in. And that’s not weakness.
That’s evidence that you loved.
💬 More soon. We’ll talk about how we cope and how we begin to rebuild.
But for now, just know:
You are not crazy.
You are not weak.
You are not alone.
With respect,
Diana Harris
