By ACL Bachara
I love you, but I’m so incredibly disappointed.
Maybe you tell me that you love me, too, but to you what I say will never matter, you won’t change your mind. I will speak up anyway.
What I see, plain as day, is this: many of us are morally different from those who continue to support and enable the MAGA regime. Stop telling us that we chose “politics over family and friends.” If you had chosen YOUR people, YOUR family first, you never would have defended the politics of cruelty. The reason I maintain my progressive political stances is precisely because of my family.
When billionaires trampled everyday people for profit, MAGA said, “Please, and thank you.” When sexism, racism, ableism, misogyny, homophobia, transphobia, and xenophobia were repackaged into “Conservative Christianity” and enabled the walking grievance machine that is Donald Trump, MAGA lined up for a seat on his MAGA bus. And they’ve stayed on that bus—through every fresh horror, every poor decision, every selfish ego trip, every exposed intentional cruelty—riding alongside him proudly, still defending him in the comment sections of people they claim to love.
He lies. Openly. Constantly. Without shame. And MAGA eats it up. Dodge. Deflect. Blame. Repeat.
Rather than confront our collective shadows—our brutal histories, the generational trauma, the reparations long overdue—MAGA chose a man who has only ever sown destruction: to communities here and abroad. Trade wars. Political infighting. Personal vendettas. He stoked every fire he could find and gleefully poured gasoline on the rest. And MAGA stood by, complicit every step of the way.
I need you to hear me. This isn’t Democrat vs. Republican. This is the billionaire class playing puppeteer, weaponizing distraction, division, and fear, while they loot the commons—our labor, our dignity, our future. And it keeps working, because we keep electing people who protect their fortunes rather than hold anyone accountable.
We have people in our families and across this country—teachers, scientists, historians, doctors, journalists, policy experts—who’ve spent their lives studying how to build a more just, sustainable, and compassionate world. They’ve offered data, insight, and solutions. They’ve raised alarms about authoritarianism, economic injustice, climate collapse, and the rise of disinformation. But MAGA has refused to listen. Instead, they’ve chosen to place blind faith in the words of Trump and the echo chamber of Fox News, dismissing expertise as “elitist” and facts as “fake” when they contradict the narrative. The willful ignorance is not only dangerous—it’s a betrayal of those working in good faith to protect all of us.
And to the single-issue voters—those who claim they’re not MAGA but keep voting with them because they’re afraid of women having abortions or trans kids making decisions too young—I see you, too. You may not wear the red hat, but you’re still handing power to the same machine. You’re still propping up a movement that uses fear as its currency and cruelty as its policy. If your concern is truly about life, safety, or children’s well-being, then look around: maternal mortality is rising, families can’t afford healthcare, kids are hungry, schools are crumbling, and gun violence is rampant. MAGA has no plan to solve any of that. They’re not protecting life—they’re exploiting your fear to consolidate power. Voting based on one fear while ignoring the wreckage around it is not morality. It’s complicity.
They’re dismantling the very things that actually make this country great:
National Parks. Roads and bridges. Public education. Healthcare. Safety nets. Access to real, nourishing food. MAGA’s war cry has become the soundtrack to our collective demolition.
When it comes to genocide and concentration camps, MAGA doesn’t just look away—they cheer. They buy the T-shirts. They make memes. They fly flags that celebrate the dehumanization of entire groups of people. Whether it’s Palestinian children, asylum seekers in cages, or trans kids stripped of rights, MAGA responds with applause—or worse, silence. This is not neutrality. This is participation.
I’ve said so many words. I’ve tried so many ways to understand. But the truth is, this divide isn’t new. It goes back generations. We’ve been failed by ancestors who prioritized appearance over honesty, who taught us to smooth the surface while dysfunction simmered underneath. We inherited silence dressed as civility.
But I’m done with the surface. I want to participate with a family—and a country—where hard conversations can happen. Where people don’t hide behind victimhood or heroic illusions. Where we stop demanding silence from those in pain just to avoid facing our own shadows.
There is no black and white here. But there is right and wrong. And I’m no longer willing to live falsely just so others can avoid their discomfort.
“The opposite of love is not hate, it’s indifference.”
— Elie Wiesel
I’ve done work — in therapy, in study, and in myself. I’ve confronted the colonial harm and land theft in my ancestry. I’ve written honestly, asked hard questions, extended olive branches, and stayed open to connection, even when it hurt. I’ve looked at my own shadows and remained curious. But in return, I’ve been met not with reflection or respect — but with dismissal, distortion, and loyalty to a cult.
So I’m stepping back. Not from the fight for justice, truth, or a better future — but from these MAGA-aligned relationships that have proven unwilling to meet me in truth. I’m drawing boundaries because the harm has been ongoing, the accountability absent, and the emotional manipulation constant.
This is not about “who voted for whom.” This is about the active, repeated choice to side with a movement that dehumanizes others — and then gaslights me for saying no to it. If that makes anyone uncomfortable, maybe it should.
Until real healing happens—therapy, accountability, actual dialogue—there’s nothing more I can engage with. I’ve asked questions. I’ve tried to start real conversation. And what I’ve gotten back is not silence—it’s resistance. Defensiveness. Dismissal. “You’re wrong.” “I don’t have to explain myself.” “Know your place.” That’s not dialogue. That’s control. That’s fear. And I won’t keep participating in it.
So no, you don’t get to tell me about “sad” anymore.
I see your side.
And you are wrong.
If this makes you uncomfortable—good. That means there’s still something alive in you that knows this isn’t right.
The question is: what will you do about it?
Speak up. Learn. Unlearn. Take action. Push back.
Because right now, you’re not just standing in the way of progress—you’re standing in the way of your own grandchildren’s future.
The future is being written right now—and you’re either helping, or you’re in the way. Any change you make now can ripple out into the world.
I hold on to a fierce, urgent hope. I fight because I love. I speak because I want more—for my beautiful nieces and for every child inheriting this fragile, burning world. We are at a breaking point—politically, socially, environmentally. The time for pretending is over. The time for polite avoidance is gone. If we want a future worth living in—for them, for all of us—we need to face the truth, and we need to act. Not someday. Now.