Is It Truth if We Aren't Ready to Hear it?

where does honesty go before its ready to be met...

A few weeks ago, my classmate had an emotional day in the studio. She was upset with her work and frustrated by the lack of feedback she was receiving. Hesitant to pry, I let her know I was there for her, though I could tell it wasn’t enough. As much as I wanted to help, I couldn’t shake the thought of how honesty—raw and unfiltered—can ripple outward in ways we don’t always anticipate.

I often find myself stepping into the role of the rational voice, offering solutions or perspectives. It’s a habit that, at times, even annoys me. Other times, it feels like I’m observing myself from the outside, piecing everything together neatly and presenting it like a meal no one asked for.

It’s a universal frustration, I think. Being handed logic when you’re bleeding out feels insulting—like someone offering you a stack of band-aids for a gaping wound. What am I supposed to do with this? That’s how I felt when I woke up to the election results. My usual sense of rationale, the one I rely on to steady myself, suddenly felt alien. I didn’t want it anymore. Instead, I’ve found myself in a space that feels like grieving: longing for understanding but feeling only exhaustion.

Truth is a strange thing. It’s honest, nuanced, subjective—and lately, it’s made me feel sick. I’m exhausted, worn down by a shared fatigue that feels like 92% of the collective weight. I’ve cried more than I expected to. To say I was surprised by the election results would imply I haven’t been a Black woman paying attention to the world around me. But exhausted—that feels more accurate. Truth, when it burns and aches, often feels like it’s arrived too late to do anything but linger painfully. When what we fear is finally confirmed, what are we supposed to do with that knowledge?

The other day, on a whim, I looked at the shared followers I have with the man soon to be in office. Eleven. I wasn’t entirely shocked—there were people I suspected would follow him, and they did. Still, sitting with the confirmation of those truths made my skin itch. I like to think I was prepared for this election, but that feels presumptuous. I did my research, stayed in conversation with friends, and braced myself for the results. My friends and I held onto a radical hope that things might swing in our favor, while also preparing for the alternative. In hindsight, I’m grateful for that balance.

These past weeks have reminded me of the importance of community. I’ve been leaning on my friends and family, letting myself check in with them and, sometimes, check out entirely. This communal support has given me the space to let my emotions surface and to feel validated in my anger. I wake up enraged some mornings, treat myself to a coffee and cookie, and do my best to push through the day.

My husband and others around me approach honesty in a way I can’t—detached, logical, and clear-eyed. They examine the facts, process potential impacts, and remain grounded. I’m envious of it. That kind of pragmatism feels foreign to me, especially now. I don’t even have the energy to try.

Even before these results, I struggled to sit with my truths. My anger has been simmering all election season. I’ve been exhausted by the constant noise—by the voices tearing apart both parties, some informed and others willfully ignorant. By the paradox of being surrounded by a community that’s deeply informed but also deeply opinionated, which can sometimes feel like a suffocating force.

It’s hard to face these truths. Harder still to go about the day like nothing has changed when so much needs to.

This election has been a reminder that resilience isn’t a concept; it’s an active practice. It’s woven into the ways we think, do, and simply be. I hope we continue to lean on each other, stand together, and keep showing up—always.

Things I have read, recently that I found encouraging or informative:

Substacks:

All Power to the People

#196: What else is there?

Articles:

NYT: Democrats Had a Theory of the Election. They Were Wrong.

NYT: The Way Harris Lost Will Be Her Legacy

Current Affairs: Once Again, the Democratic Leadership Has Failed Us All

Organizations:

Womens Emergency Network - healthcare in Florida

Fund Texas Choice - healthcare in Texas

As always sending you all, all my love

XOXO, Your Lil Mama <3