Each election year, I find myself casting my vote at the very last minute — in the final week before the deadline, I can be found scrambling around trying to get it squared away. I’m one of those people rushing to cast my vote in the final days of the election. It’s a habit I can’t seem to stop but one that gives my choice a final once-over before sealing the envelope. It’s something I put off and put off until I have no other choice but to get it done. I wish my friend had done the same this time, especially since she was already unsure.

Instead, she asked, “So, who are you voting for in this election?” I could feel myself tense up at the very question. Given my interests and stances on various topics, I thought this would be obvious. We were halfway through our call when the topic I was trying to avoid came up. I was hardly in the mood to get caught in a tirade about who was more competent to lead. The Harris versus Trump election had become a heated debate for many. You already couldnt escape the commercials, the mailings, and now the conversations.

My friend, who shall remain nameless and is of Puerto Rican descent, decided to vote for Donald Trump. I, on the opposite side of the spectrum, chose to vote for Kamala Harris. She believed his promises of economic growth would bring about positive changes. I typically stay away from politics and make a point not to write about political affairs altogether, but I feel driven to write about those silently carrying a weight of regret after voting for Trump in the 2024 election.

When Tony Hinchcliffe, a comedian supporting Trump’s campaign, referred to Puerto Rico as a “floating island of garbage,” I thought the comment would feel like a hard slap in the face to Puerto Ricans everywhere and to anyone who values respect. This was not just an insensitive remark. The remark seemed to echo something louder, beyond the surface, a deeper disregard and, in the mere seconds it took for him to utter those horrible remarks, the damage was done. But my friend had already voted by mail.

For my friend, the betrayal and embarrassment of this painful sting continues to linger on.

My friend wondered if there was a way to retract her vote. Unfortunately, once a mail-in ballot is submitted, it’s legally set in stone to preserve the integrity of the election process. I could see how powerless she felt after realizing her vote couldn’t be undone, even if she regretted it.

I wonder now if others feel the same, opting to keep these thoughts of shame and regret to themselves, locking them up in the confines of their mental storage spaces and not muttering a word about it ever again, choosing to hope for the best and throwing their hands up as there is nothing they can do about it now.

Some states allow voters to “cure” their ballots to fix minor issues like signatures, but no state permits changing one’s vote after it’s been counted. The remark about Puerto Rico has magnified the importance of aligning votes with leaders who promise economic gains and respect the cultures and communities they represent. For many, the realization is dawning that a candidate’s words and actions are as critical as their policies.

If there is one lesson to take from all of this, it is that words matter. They shape how people think and ultimately feel about themselves and how communities are viewed and treated.

Voters need to remain informed about the choices they make, recognizing the value of leaders who don’t just promise policy changes but genuinely respect and honor the diverse cultures that make up our nation.

I hope this story serves as a reminder that when we vote, we’re not just choosing a platform or an agenda — we’re deciding whether to endorse values, respect and unity. For my friend and so many others, this election has shown that a lack of respect is something we shouldn’t overlook. Maybe leaving voting to the last minute isn’t such a bad thing after all.

Navarra is a writer and lives in San Diego.