Growing up, I was told I could be president.

I was born in 1997, putting me on the cusp of the millennials and Gen Z. It was the era of third-wave feminism, where little girls like me were told we could be anything we want. I was raised by a mother who gave me books on winning the right to vote. I was taught that I was on the same playing field as the boys in my class.

I’m starting to think that isn’t true.

On Tuesday night, Vice President Kamala Harris lost. It was Donald Trump’s second time winning a presidential election against a woman. I held my mother as she repeatedly expressed her disbelief. I scrolled through posts from my female friends on social media, sharing their anger and their grief. In all of it, I felt nothing and everything.

I have been dreading this for months. The United States has proved that it prefers an adjudicated rapist and womanizer to a woman. Now, I’m unsure I’ll ever see a woman president in my lifetime.

I’m worried about what this means for myself and........

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