I may have long accepted that Bongbong Marcos would be our next president, but it didn't make the process of that assumption turning into fact any less shocking. Or maybe it's because the authorities managed to fix the "seven-hour delay" that held us in suspense three years ago, which meant a bulk of the results were transmitted, and thus reported on, within the space of forty minutes.

But even then I didn't really feel the sense of despair that I had six years ago, when the results of the last presidential election came in. Again - and I really can never stress this enough, again - it's not because I want him to be president. It's not so much opposition as it is fatalism, or if I'm to make myself look good, realistic. Before the allegations of irregularities during the polls, before the surveys, one just knows that what the (unofficial, for now) president-elect has is a pretty wide lead. But then, many refuse to acknowledge what is happening in front of them and choose to believe what they want to believe, just because they see a different set of facts.

For lack of a better term, it was fascinating to watch the reactions of people on my social media feeds. Again, I haven't blocked anyone - now, that's definitely me making myself look good - but my feeds are skewed more towards Leni Robredo supporters. Understandably. I came from a middle class background and studied in a prestigious university. Inevitably I would be surrounded by people of a more, err, left-skewing mindset. (Is it even safe to say "left-skewing" these days?) Inevitably, my feeds would be filled with "negative" emotions they would not want to see on any other day. Shock that, despite their best efforts, the majority of voters did not go their way. Grief that the country is facing at least six years of uncertainty, of international embarrassment, of everything else passing us by. Anger towards 31 million people (although it wasn't clear on election night) who chose the dictator's son over immaculate sunshine. How can all these people be paid-for, and stupid, and, well, stupid?

Between those posts were the few people who had the guts to come out for Bongbong Marcos. They were happy they won. They were gloating, which is arguably understandable, considering how toxic - no, passionate, positive words only, please! - the campaign has been.

How dare you gloat, the pinks seemed to say. You're selfish. You only voted for yourself. We voted for the country. But you will regret your choice soon. Just you wait.

How dare you say that, the reds seemed to say in response. Come to think of it, your candidate lost because of you. You called us selfish. You called us stupid. You were condescending and patronizing. You refused to see us eye to eye. You thought that just because you have pink on your avatars and your masks and your everything else, you're automatically a better person. Fuck you.

No, fuck you! the pinks seemed to say. You only won because you cheated, You only won because you spread lies. You only won because you pumped out revisionist YouTube videos and romanticized Sandro Marcos on TikTok. But you will regret your choice soon. Trust me. Just you wait.

Of course, the actual words said weren't as elegant as how I put it, but you get the idea.

And so the grieving process continued. Don't get me wrong. I'm not dismissing it. I understand how it can feel like a really big loss for many, especially for those who gave a little, or a lot, of their time for the cause. I understood why some of my acquaintances had to get off social media for a while to process the crushing defeat. I understood why some of them expressed difficulty in going back to work the next day. "Just go back to work," I said to some of them. It felt weird saying that; what the fuck do I know anyway? I felt unqualified, but I genuinely believed it is the least we all can do. Get back to work. The government cannot single-handedly bring the economy down, and the numbers prove it.

Maybe it's because I have yet to experience life-shattering grief. I am lucky to have both my parents, for one. I dread the day when that ceases to be a fact, when I'll have to go through the motions in a world that has fundamentally changed. Maybe then I'll understand why we seek the solace of friends who can sympathize, why we go for what's comfortable rather than what's challenging. To them, it's Twitter spaces. It's sharing graphics and quotes with "we're still better than you" as screaming subtext. It's working to cancel people and boycott businesses that were seen to be supporting the (again, technically unofficial) president-elect. Go back to your shells and surrounded yourself by people who will comfort you rather than challenge you. I guess that makes sense.

But it's not how we will win the next fight.

We're doing the exact same mistakes we did in 2016. I remember those days very well. When it was clear our vision of what this country should be did not win over most people, we got angry at the people who chose otherwise. We called them stupid. We called them paid-for. We refused to listen to them, choosing to cocoon ourselves in the views of those who already share ours. For six years this went on. Everything became about what the current president would do versus what the last one, or the current vice president, would have done. See, they did it much better! you almost always suggested, with the strongest hints of pettiness and snark, as if that makes you a better person by default.

And then the campaigns began, and you suddenly wanted to talk to these very people you called stupid. Maybe now that things have not gone as well, with the pandemic and the economy and all those deaths fresh in the head, they will see things your way? But they instead felt talked down to. If you choose Leni, these perfectly splendid things will happen! Of course you would choose that, right? I mean, other people of the same economic class as you agree with us! But imagine being told you're stupid when, deep inside, you know that you did not make your choice easily, that it is informed by what you experience, and what the people you trust say, and what you think is best for you and for your community. Yeah. I figured you'd dig your heels and flip the bird at them.

Sure, you can dismiss that perspective. You've seen the trolls say precisely that with their copied-and-pasted scripts and their inability to switch profiles when talking to themselves. But I'm not a Bongbong Marcos supporter. I'm not paid to say any of these things. I'm not paid to say anything at all. I think you were being condescending and patronizing. I think you just wanted to make yourself look like the better person. And sure, I agree that you also have the best interests of the country in mind, but I think your privilege and comfort prevented you from seeing things their way, and your prejudices prevented you from even trying to connect with them. In the end, you failed to send the message, and that is why, on top of all the disinformation, the elections turned out the way they did. Would you consider that perspective if it came from me?

But it's not really the end of the world, at least not yet. There is still time. "Just go back to work" sounded flippant when I said that to some people a week ago, but now it isn't. Just go back to work. Continue what you're doing. Again, the government cannot single-handedly bring down the economy. It only accounts for 19% of our gross domestic product, with the rest coming from the private sector, particularly our consumption, meaning we contribute whenever we buy fancy meals off Grab or furniture off Ikea. (It's why economists called on the Duterte administration to proceed with its infrastructure projects at the height of the lockdowns: so the economy does not crumple that much.) (Also, our GDP does not even include remittances from OFWs abroad. It's a completely different category.)

Perhaps more importantly, take the time to connect with other people. Our biggest mistake is retreating to our own echo chambers, perhaps in the name of self-love and maintaining your mental health. In shutting out people whose perspectives don't match ours, we lost our ability to communicate with them, much more empathize with them - at least outside of achingly formal settings like focus group discussions, for example. We only saw our reality, and when someone else's butts in, we reject it. It must be fake. It must be wrong. Only then will we be able to have a shot at convincing the majority - and, remember, we are definitely not the majority - that we understand them, that we have an idea of how things can be better for them. Perhaps they'll consider that your intentions are genuine, and you're not just there proselytizing on behalf of your latest political idol, demanding that folks not sleep on them and that they recognize talent when they see it.

Alas, in the past couple of days I've seen folks on my feeds suggest, in all sincerity, that we should turn the Robredos into this country's version of the Kardashians, but maybe without the on-camera drama. I don't know. Uphold them as a symbol of the goodness this country has left to offer, and all that? There goes your whole "we will be the first to be critical" reassurance. There goes your "you Bongbong supporters are blind fanatics!" argument. Fucking hell. This is why we will fail again.