From Rose Colored Glasses to Republicanism: My Political Awakening

 

Once upon a time, I wore my open-mindedness like a comfortable cloak—a badge of honor that allowed me to embrace diversity, live and let live, and dismiss the “stuffy” conservatism of the right. Politics? Nah, not my cup of tea. Voting? Seemed futile; after all, both sides were equally flawed, right?

And then, like a plot twist in a gripping novel, Barack Obama stepped onto the stage in 2008. The nation held its breath as history unfolded—a black President! Surely, this shattered any lingering illusions about racial barriers. Minorities would now find their opportunities, right?

I watched Obama’s inauguration—the only one I’ve ever witnessed. But as his presidency unfolded, my rose-colored glasses cracked. Arrogance seeped through, and the fact that he was biracial seemed conveniently ignored. The unity he promised? It fractured. The country felt more divided than ever.

In 2012, I cast my first-ever vote—against Obama. Yet, he secured a second term. My disillusionment deepened. Then came the 2016 showdown: Trump vs. Hillary. My Liberal friends railed hard against Trump, but Hillary? She didn’t resonate with me either. So, I sat out, my ballot unmarked.

And then—boom! Trump triumphed. The vitriol hurled at him puzzled me. I squinted at the accusations, wondering why my reality didn’t match the narrative. Financially, things were peachy for me.  Most (not all) of what he wanted to do to make this nation great again, resonated. Was I missing something?

Trump—the disruptor—woke me up. Not “woke” in the trendy sense, but truly awake as in eyes wide open. I read voraciously, seeking dissenting views. I peeked beyond mainstream media’s curtain. By 2018, I’d swapped my Independent badge for a Republican one. Their logic resonated—their pragmatism felt like a sturdy bridge across the partisan chasm.

In 2020, I voted again—this time for Donald Trump. Confidence surged within me. But the election? A murky labyrinth. Was it stolen? I can’t say for sure, but doubt lingers.

And Biden? Well, I’d been talking about his cognitive hiccups since 2020. Not that I’m Einstein, but even I spotted the glitches. The Democratic party’s recent plea for him to step down seems more like a comedy of errors.  How can they just be seeing his lack of ability?

Am I a textbook Republican? Not quite. I believe in early-term abortion, and my spiritual compass doesn’t point to Christianity. Some call me a Libertarian—maybe they’re onto something.

As for Trump—ah, the megalomaniac! Somewhere along the way, he probably should have learned that no response could have served him better than “mean tweets”. But credit where due: He steered the ship, weathered storms, and has faced unjust accusations. And the recent assassination attempt? My gut whispers “inside job.”

So, come November, my vote will be for Donald Trump. Not perfect, but a captain who steered through tempests. Do I think he can actually win?  Do I think the election will be fair?  Do I think he’ll be allowed to take office?  I don’t know.  The truth is an elusive bird, and we may never catch it.

And that, dear reader, is how I became a Republican.