At first, I thought I was in shock. But, as the reality of Trump’s election set in, I realized I was emotionless. This election had finally proven to me what I had suspected for some time – that I didn’t belong. That there was a (no-longer) “silent majority” of Americans who did not see the world as I did, who were willing to embrace a man that I found so utterly deplorable I couldn’t stand to hear him speak. That there were people not only across the country, but in my very family who would elect a man who had proposed to bar my best friends and boyfriend from entering the country because their identities were somehow threatening.

You, America, have rejected me.

One of your own. Someone who’s family has lived and worked in the United States since the 18th century. You have alienated my dearest friends, colleagues, and mentors. You have cut the fraying cord that connected me to you, and I cannot say I want to mend it.

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