“I lied because it seemed easier than confronting the fault lines shifting beneath us.”
I received the text on Election Day 2016.
Mom: You voted for Trump, right?
My fingers hesitated over my phone screen.
Id known her message was coming, but reading it made my stomach lurch.
Me: Yes
I hit send, even though it was a lie.
Watching Donald Trump once again become the Republican nominee this year feels like a time-warped fever dream.
One minute, Im cooking dinner in my Brooklyn apartment.
Fox News blasts from the TV.
My parents are pleased to show me what they call a different perspective.
Only its not 2016.
Its 2024 and, yet, its as though nothing has changed.
The person Ive become over the last eight years is gone.
My parents today are under no delusion that Im a registered Republican.
I lied because it seemed easier than confronting the fault lines shifting beneath us.
Id wanted to keep from making things worse.
I thought it better to stifle myself than to pour gasoline over an open flame.
Politics were not our biggest problem.
It often feels as though we exist in a parallel universe.
My parents version of reality and mine are increasingly different, our narratives constantly in opposition.
Admittedly, I am not an avid news consumer through traditional means, like newspapers or television.
But facts and research proved unsuccessful, and Ive since given up.
During a recent visit with my parents, my mom asked what I think of Trump being the nominee.
I dont like it, I said flatly.
Especially considering the Supreme Courts ruling on presidential immunity.
See, the liberal media spins everything!
Arent you concerned that the president can basically do anything they want now without consequence?
Its always been that way, she said, her tone expressive.
Words failed to form on my tongue.
With each passing second, I felt my selfhood slipping away.
I wanted to ask what she meant but feared our conversation would begin to mimic Fox & Friends.
Did she not remember watching the news together on Jan. 6, 2021?
What do they think theyre going to achieve?
both infuriated and saddened me.
The conservative media spins everything too, I finally said.
Wereallspinning but in different directions.
It unsettles me to see how easily my narratives can be deconstructed during these conversations.
My parents are not the Trump-loving extremists seen at his rallies nor are they part of the religious right.
It would be easier to wave off their beliefs if they were.
Maybe I am being duped by the liberal media.
Maybe its me who is disconnected from reality.
It takes a few days to reorient myself after I return home from visiting my parents.
I spend more time second-guessing myself, questioning my individuality and seeking reassurance of my beliefs.
Without trying, I take to representing the Republican point of view in discussions with colleagues and friends.
Im not sure which thoughts belong to my parents and which, if any, belong to me.
We are not the same family we were in 2016.
Come February, my brother will be six years sober.
Im tempted to avoid conflict by circumventing their questions, resorting to silence instead of voicing opposition.
But at what cost?
Where is the line between self-preservation and annihilation?
I will not lie to my parents this election.
I cant call myself an advocate if I am complicit.
I cant stand beside my queer community if Im not willing to fight for us.
There is no doubt in my mind that Trump and everything he represents is wrong.
Writing this is a step toward breaking my silence.
Toward owning my truth even if it is imperfect.
Even if there are parts I am still searching to find.
Find her work atkatewarrington.medium.comand@warrington_kate.
This article originally appeared onHuffPost.
