I have spent most of the current election cycle sure that we were barreling towards the inevitable disaster of another Trump term. It felt like a certainty, and I remain cautious of the possibility.

But once the Democrats finally pulled their heads out of their asses and confronted Biden with reality, it seems like the whole scene changed for the better. For the first time since 2012, I feel as though I am not left to choose between the lesser of two evils. I have begun to come around to the idea of voting. I don’t feel icky about the candidate the same way I did in 2016 and 2020. That comes from a place of genuine ignorance about Kamala Harris’ record and aspirations. I knew too much about Hillary and Joe to ever feel completely on board with them, but the alternative was and remains truly insane.

The air around us changed when Harris picked up the torch. Something shifted in the national conversation and in my own heart and mind. I believe it would only be fitting for a woman of color to run away with it. It’s high time we gave women a chance to run this thing because we have seen what hundreds of years worth of white men accomplishes. More of the same is a sure path to ruin.

I am sure that the particulars of Harris and her record will be known by election day and I am sure that they will not find any skeletons that would stop me from believing she is the better choice. I continue to maintain that my vote will be a protest vote, but I will cast it happily this time. As an act of defiance against a man that I believe could spell the end of democracy.