If you know me, you know that my work is guided by a few fairly simple, and yet incredibly important beliefs: 1) Relationships are the center of our work, 2) How we do our work can make others’ work easier, 3) Pin your work to your heart, 4) Being vulnerable is an important component of leadership, 5) Collaboration is key to true success, and so on.

On this day after the election another core belief of mine has been challenged: that the glass is always full. I have aimed to live a life of hope, finding solutions rather than dwelling in problems, seeking to be better rather than settling for where we are now. This eternal optimism has been challenged by the nations selection for President.

At 4:15am this morning, as I was getting ready to head to the airport, my 16-year-old daughter wandered down from her bedroom. She woke up and could not go back to sleep – because of the election. She sat quietly on the couch as I quickly ate some breakfast, brewed some coffee, and finished the last packing. After a few minutes I said, “It will be ok” to which she didn’t respond.

Now ready to head to the airport, I sat on the couch, so I could check in one more time. She proceeded to ask me a question I could not answer, “How do I move forward knowing that the person elected to be President does not respect me as a woman?”

For my family, friends, and anyone else who identifies as a woman, a Muslim, person of color, immigrants and dreamers, those who only recently are able to marry whomever you love, who are living with a disability – I see you; you matter; I’m with you; although I have not had to live through the challenges you face, I promise to keep learning and be an ally; I don’t understand all of who I am or how we got here, but I will keep exploring.

And in the interest of that “eternal optimism” I mentioned earlier, the text message I received from my wife after my flight, “Ok…very quiet at first around here this morning 😦 But of course optimism was there with Em and Sophie after initial shock. Max was just a weird smile with “did that just happen?” look. Love our kids and I love you.”

There is of course much work to do. Take the time you need to grieve, understand, and when you are ready, move forward. It took my daughter’s question and this post – and I think I’m ready to move.