Where do we go from here?

And what do we tell our kids?

The future is uncertain, but I will not lose hope.

Last week, Erika asked me if I wanted to write anything following the election. My initial response was hell no. Why would I want to enter the fray?

But I’m a writer, and writers process the world through words. And so I’m doing what I said I wouldn’t do—writing to you on the morning after the election.

I haven’t cried. I think I might be in shock. Or maybe after nearly a decade of feeling like all we do is leap from one crisis to the next, I’m too tired to panic. I don’t want to get caught up in the frenzy of finger-pointing and hand-wringing. That doesn’t get us anywhere.

But I am sad. So sad. And I’m scared. Terrified. 

And yet, I’m not willing to give up the fight. As Erika and I were texting last night, I told her: No matter what happens, the mission of The Purse doesn’t change. We will continue to uplift women’s voices, to talk about taboo topics, to fight for the causes we care about. 

It was so exciting to vote for a female presidential candidate yesterday. I felt the same pride and hope that I did in 2016 voting for Hillary Clinton. I was a little surprised, to be honest, after the disappointment of the Clinton loss that I would let myself feel excited. A piece of me always thinks that if I don’t get my hopes up, the disappointment won’t hurt as much. But that’s simply not true. 

This crushing defeat stings like nothing I’ve experienced before. But I don’t regret believing that maybe—just maybe—Kamala Harris could win. I didn’t get what I wanted. And oh boy how many women can relate to losing out on an opportunity to a mediocre white man? Sadly, this isn’t the first time, and it won’t be the last. But I refuse to give up the dream of a better world. I owe it to my kid, myself, my family, my friends, my community, and the millions of people I don’t know but who are fighting for the same thing. We can’t give up.

Change takes a long time—and there are inevitably setbacks along the way. Women as leaders is a relatively new phenomenon. We just got the right to have our own credit cards 50 years ago. The vast majority of Fortune 500 companies are still run by men. I hoped to wake up this morning to learn we had elected our first female president. But just because my candidate lost doesn’t mean I’m going to give up that dream. 

So where do we go from here? I don’t know. What do we tell our children? That’s a hard one, too. The villain won this battle. The bully is going back to the White House. It’s hard not to simply blame misogyny and racism for this defeat. And maybe it is as simple as that.

I’ve tried so hard to teach my kid the importance of treating everyone with kindness. It’s difficult to explain why others don’t reciprocate. I’m not sure I’ll ever understand why people don’t see how most of us fundamentally want the same thing: To raise our children in peace and prosperity. To love who we want to love. To live in a country that adheres to the ideals laid out in the Declaration of Independence—the right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. 

Why do people listen to rich men when they tell us there’s not enough to go around? These men have billions, and yet they are the first to say they can’t possibly share. I don’t think I’ll ever get a satisfactory answer to that question. Maybe it’s time to stop asking it?

My instinct in these situations is to jump into problem-solving mode. Get up, get a shower, get dressed, get to work. There’s a lot to do. 

But first, I want to thank the people I know who fought so hard for the Harris campaign. My friends who phone-banked, calling people in Arizona and Nevada, late into the evening after busy days of working and caring for their kids. They went to Pennsylvania and knocked on doors and served as poll workers and watchers. This was not the ending we wanted, but the work you did meant something. Thank you. 

And I want to say thank you to Kamala Harris. She’ll never know how much she’s inspired me and so many women. I think almost daily of her quote about being humble. I am one of those women who does not aspire to be humble. And seeing Vice President Harris’s bravery and stamina and grace through all of this has been a joy. She may not be president, but she is a true leader.

Despite the heartbreaking results of last night, we cannot give up. We have to continue to do the hard work and teach our children our values and hope that bit by bit we can push forward change. It may take longer than our lifetimes, but it’s a cause worth the effort.

It’s OK if we need to take today to wallow, pull the covers over our heads, scream into a pillow, have a good cry. But tomorrow, we need to get back to work. We can’t let fear and anger and hatred stop us. We are stronger than that.

Sending hugs and love from Brooklyn.

Lindsey