In this special edition of Her Campus’s Dorm Diaries series, Gen Zers from across the country share their experiences on Election Day 2024. You can read more Election Day Diaries here.
This is my first time voting in a presidential election, and it feels like the stakes have never been higher for me as an LGBTQ+ woman and an immigrant. Coming from a tiny town in Iowa and having lived in Ukraine before that, I have seen firsthand how political decisions impact the lives and freedoms of people close to me. This election feels especially personal, though. My girlfriend and I are both worried about the implications for our rights, healthcare, and general safety if things go in a certain direction.
I have always been supported by my family for my outspoken beliefs and loud opinions; my parents share my political views and have taught me to be proud of what I have to say. That’s how I ended up as a senior at Saint Louis University, where I’m majoring in English with minors in psychology and communication. My girlfriend and I share similar views as well as similar anxieties around this election, and a lot of my friends at SLU do as well. Personally, I voted by mail in Iowa two weeks ago, casting my ballot for Harris.
The energy on campus is charged — we’re all aware that our generation has a huge influence on the outcome. Students are talking, sharing resources, and reminding each other to vote. Many of us have been following not only the presidential race but also some of the key congressional races that could impact the balance of power. Knowing that so many of us are equally invested is reassuring, even though the tension is palpable.
6:45 a.m.: Woke up for class registration
It was downpouring in St. Louis all day yesterday, and the rain continued this morning. I hope the gray weather isn’t a bad omen.
7:30 a.m.: Gave up trying to register for classes
The website kept crashing, so I put it off and ate an acai bowl for breakfast. I gave up scrolling through Threads after seeing multiple election posts in a row — despite the hopeful nature of the content, it did nothing to ease my anxiety.
9:00 a.m.: Drove my girlfriend to work
The entire way there, we talked about how insanely anxious we were about the election. As two lesbian women, we’ve discussed our future plans changing if Trump wins the election. The outcome feels like more than politics; it’s about our safety and the security of our future. We’ve discussed what certain policies could mean for us: how access to healthcare, employment protections, and even our ability to travel freely could be affected.
“Of course, I believe that Kamala will win. I have to believe that. But even just thinking about the alternative makes me feel like I’m crashing out,” they said. As a nonbinary and visibly gender-nonconforming person, my girlfriend has additional concerns about visibility and acceptance. This election feels even more intense for them than it does for me, because of everything that is on the line with transgender rights. The stakes feel impossibly high because for us, it’s not just theoretical, it is personal and immediate.
9:15 a.m.: I tried to get off the internet and ease my worries by doing some yoga
While I stretched, I put on one of my favorite podcasts: A Bit Fruity hosted by Matt Bernstein. The episode was about Jubilee and the sensationalization of political polarization. The host is very well-spoken and it made me reflect on how much more hate and fear-mongering has been put out in the world over the last eight years.
10 a.m.: Get ready for the day
Due to both the rain and my fragile emotional state, I decided today was a day to dress comfy.
11 a.m.: First class of the day
Time for my first class of the day, which is creative writing: science fiction. I was up to be workshopped today, but talking about my fictional story about government control set in a dystopian world didn’t feel like much of an escape from the current reality. Our writing prompt of the day focused on dialogue, and at least three of us wrote about the election — one of my classmates shared a powerful excerpt from her piece about abortion.
12:20 p.m.: Lunch at our on-campus Subway
While standing in line, I ran into one of my friends, who told me she had just been watching a TikTok I had posted about voting, and thanked me for being so vocal about the election. Being reminded that other people are worried and anxious feels weirdly calming because at least in our fear and nerves we have community.
2:00 p.m.: Class no. 2, media and society!
Our professor always does an online check-in to start class and see how everyone is feeling, and today, I and a few other students mentioned feeling on edge and stressed about the election. She told us to take care of ourselves and try not to stress, and reminded us all to go out and vote because voting is all we have the power to do now. I tried to pay attention in class, but my mind was racing as I looked at swing state predictions instead of the history of rock ‘n roll.
3:00 p.m.: My three-hour shift at work
I’m a social media manager and desk worker for our English department’s technology lab, where we rent out equipment like cameras, microphones, and drones. Normally, this is a great time for me to work on homework, editing articles, and job applications, but I couldn’t focus on any of those things. I spent the majority of my shift rotating between Instagram, TikTok, and even (briefly) Twitter.
As I clicked through Instagram stories of voting stickers and blue “vote Harris” hearts, I was stopped in my tracks by an acquaintance who posted in support of Trump. I do not associate with people who do not recognize my humanity, as well as the mistreatment, of me and people close to me, so that was an immediate unfollow.
My coworker and I discussed how overwhelming social media can be on election day, as well as how we have seen less and less vocal support for Trump over the last eight years. She said, “It used to be so many of my classmates posting about it, before we could even vote, but it feels like it’s not like that this year… it’s embarrassing to support [Trump].”
5:30 p.m.: University News meeting
I’m the Opinion Editor of the University News. We discussed our recent print issue, as well as putting up election-related articles.
6:00 p.m.: Homework and other responsibilities
Just because it’s election day and my heart is in my stomach doesn’t mean the earth stops spinning. I still had to sit down and write discussion posts, study for a quiz, and edit articles. I put on my big noise-canceling headphones and sat at my counter, trying to be as productive as I could, even as my friends and family were sending me links to election-related TikToks and articles.
7:30 P.m.: Dinnertime!
My girlfriend and I got Cane’s because both of us were much too anxious to cook this evening, and we felt we deserved something to be easy tonight. We had to remind each other to stop checking and refreshing the AP News map multiple times.
9:00 p.m.: Attended campus watch party held by SLU’s Center for Social Action
The watch party was not affiliated with a certain political party, but the majority of the students present loudly proclaimed their support of Harris. The energy in the room was tense as results rolled in, with Southern states being the first called and what one student described as “a bleak situation” seemed possible.
I talked with a few different groups, and students were proud of their vote, but anxious about the potential outcome of the election. Every single opinion voiced absolutely resonated with me — I too had felt anxious, worried, and on edge all day; I too was shocked and concerned by how close the race was.
11:00 p.m.: Self-care and de-stressing
I intentionally put my phone down for a while after getting back to my apartment, instead changing into comfy clothes and settling in on the couch to play some Fortnight and watch Bojack Horseman. I knew that the best way to calm myself down was to distract myself with other tasks, and staring at my phone wasn’t going to change the election results.
12:15 a.m.: Bedtime.
I put my phone on Do Not Disturb and am going to bed, even though the election is still too close to call. Unplugging brought some calm — not reassurance exactly, but at least a pause from the constant stress of waiting.
As I lay in bed, I thought about what this day meant for me. It wasn’t just a typical Election Day; this one carried a weight that felt both deeply personal and collective. As an LGBTQ+ immigrant woman, the stakes felt high, touching my own future and the futures of so many others who simply want the chance to live openly, without fear.
Today was exhausting, and I had felt on edge from start to finish, but it was also a reminder of how much community matters. Through all the nerves, it was grounding to know I wasn’t alone in my hopes and anxieties. For now, all I can do is let go and try to sleep, knowing that whatever comes next, at least we will face it together.