Should you cut ties with Trump supporters or try to change their minds?
A subscriber asked: "How close do I really want to be to people who support the monster in the White House?"
Here’s another Q&A post! If you’re a paid subscriber ($5/month), you can ask me a question about relationships, healthy communication, masculinity, therapy, pretty much anything. Reply to this email and I’ll send you my thoughts directly. I might also feature your question (anonymously) in a future post, like this one!
This week’s question from a paid subscriber is...
The current political atmosphere has compelled me to reevaluate some of my close relationships. How close do I really want to be to people who continue to support the monster in the White House, despite everything he has done so far? A lot of us are seeing people we love for who they are for the very first time, and don’t like what we see. How do we reckon with that?
I can relate. Some of my many Trump-supporting family members don’t believe there should be a minimum wage. Others think all undocumented immigrants should be deported. Others don’t think the U.S. should have Medicare for All, even though they live in Canada and benefit from publicly funded healthcare.
My first reaction when they say or post stuff like that is anger. A fireball rises up inside my chest, my shoulders tense up, my face gets tight. I so badly want to convince them they’ve been tricked into believing things that go against their own interests. Some visceral, rageful part of me wants to press them down on the floor until they agree with me.
And sometimes I speak from that anger. I snap. My voice gets louder and strained. My eyes go into tunnel vision. My ears tune out most of what they’re saying. The things that come out of my mouth are more self-righteous than usual (though I can certainly be self-righteous day-to-day). I sound like I’ve got it all figured out. Like they’re idiots and only I know the truth.
What happens next, after the argument—whether in person or online—is that I feel horrible. I beat myself for going so hard on them. For not really listening to what they were saying. For pretending I have all the answers and they don’t.
It ends up hurting me to get so angry at them. It’s an awful cycle, of anger to guilt and back again.
And so, I understand your urge to reevaluate these relationships, especially if they’re close. Why go on the roller coaster ride if they aren’t willing to change?
Some people say to cut these people out of our lives. It’s not worth it. Don’t let them jeopardize your peace. There’s already too much to be angry and scared about.
I tend to be in the other camp. I think it’s important for me to work through these differences and difficulties with friends and family. These types of difficult conversations are important political and emotional work for me to be doing.
Of course, you have to decide whether it’s ultimately worth it or not. I wouldn’t pressure anyone to stay in any relationship just for the sake of sticking with it. There are valid reasons to cut off people or extremely limit contact, especially if they are abusive or harming you in some way.
But there’s value in facing what other people bring up in us. It might be the most valuable thing there is in relationships.
Richard Schwartz, the founder of the type of therapy I specialize in—Internal Family Systems (IFS)—calls people who trigger us our “tormentors.” He writes:
“By tormenting, they mentor me because they trigger key wounds and defenses that I need to heal. Also, they present ample opportunities for me to see what happens when I don’t take the bait and, instead, remain [calm, compassionate, and courageous].”
Our family and friends can be fertile ground for practicing new ways of communicating and being with other people. One of my family members used to often make racist jokes around me. One time, instead of trying to berate him and convince him he shouldn’t say racist things—which I tried so many times before—I tried setting a boundary. I said, “Hey, if you’re going to say racist things, I’m not going to hang around you.” I didn’t squash my anger and hide it. I channeled the energy into sternly laying down a boundary about how I would behave if he continued to say those things.
And it worked! He hasn’t said a racist thing around me since. Though he still says sexist things, which I’m hoping to work up the courage to stand up to soon.
In other words: You might want to try setting some boundaries before completely cutting ties. It’s an opportunity to practice difficult conversations.
That’s the emotional side of it, but there’s the political side too. Changing the hearts and minds of a small handful of friends and family member isn’t going to save the world by itself. But the longer I’ve worked in politics and become more involved in local activism and organizing, the more I’ve realized that people aren’t open to changing their hearts and minds until you’ve got a personal relationship with them. Until they trust you.
And so our friends and family might be the path of least resistance when it comes to the necessary political organizing work we need to do to stop this monster. Even if it feels so uncomfortable and fraught with difficult choices.
Hope this helps you make your decision about how to handle these close relationships. Know that so many of us are grappling with this right now. You’re not alone.
As always, don’t hesitate to email me if you need help navigating any of this: jeremy@mohler.coach
How do you relate to Trump supporters in your life? Share in the comments!
❓❓❓Are you a paid subscriber and have a question? Reply to this email and I’ll send you my thoughts directly. And I might feature your question (anonymously) in a future post!
I posed this question not only for myself, but because this issue has been coming up routinely in my coaching practice since the November election. Personally, I’m not looking to “end” relationships with anyone. But how much time and energy I am willing to invest in some relationships is another question.
The problems that arise around this issue with clients are never really about politics. I don’t know anyone who intends to turn their backs on family members because of their political beliefs. But I do know people, me included, who realize they need to set limits in those relationships because their loved ones dismiss their beliefs and repeatedly invalidate their legitimate concerns for the country they love. This example tells me that the political beliefs aren’t problematic in and of themselves. They reveal other problems that already exist in relationships.
Shortly after Biden bowed out of the 2024 race and Kamala Harris took the helm, I bought a hat from her campaign. It’s the sort of thing I’ve done in most presidential election years in my life. There were a couple differences. The other times MAGA didn’t exist, and, during other election cycles, I lived a thousand miles from my much older siblings. Wouldn’t you know that hat, the arrival of which I awaited eagerly, landed on my doorstep a few hours before our monthly sibling dinner.
We were to meet at a restaurant where plenty of people would be wearing hats, but I thought twice before wearing it because of one sibling I thought it might irritate. I remember looking in the mirror and asking myself: do you want to tiptoe their feelings, or do you want to respect yourself. I chose the latter.
There were a couple awkward comments about the hat, but nothing that seemed too significant. However, I got a call from my youngest sister several days later, asking if I would come to her house so we could talk. Another sister had been gossiping about me wearing that hat among siblings and aunts and cousins, to the point where it made my youngest sister feel uncomfortable. She felt like she was betraying me for not speaking up on my behalf.
The statement that the older sister continued to make behind my back for months was this. “I just don’t understand why he would wear that.” This reinforced something I already knew. She doesn’t know me very well. I’m the guy who wears the hat whether she likes it or not.
The half-assed, non-apology apology she texted to me a week or two after our dinner (in which she said things like “I don’t want to think about politics. I just want to spend time with my siblings.”) made it clear that she doesn’t really want to know me.
What bothers me as much as anything about all this is the double standard in my relationship with this sister. She’s a good person and has done a lot of good in her life. She means well. That said, I abhor many of her core beliefs and have never given her any shit about them. It's none of my business. Yet, she feels emboldened enough to take issue with her younger brother (who is a 52-year-old man) for wearing a hat that represents an opposing set of beliefs.
So, for me, it’s not that I don’t want to have a relationship with my sister, who voted for he who I refuse to name, if she voted at all. It’s that I don’t invest in relationships with people who talk about me behind my back. It’s that I want that sister to understand I am not the least bit open to her thoughts on my attire and I will not entertain them. How she feels about what I wear or what I believe is for her to deal with, not me. I want her to treat me with the same respect I treat her, and if she is not willing to do that, she won’t be seeing much of me.
I also want her to understand that I will not water down who I am to make her feel more comfortable; if she doesn’t like spending time with me the way I am, she doesn’t have to spend time with me at all. And I wouldn’t want her to feel bad about that.
My sister and I haven’t spoken in several months. I haven’t yet expressed these things to her. I won’t until I know I can do so with dignity and grace.
Looking at all my relationships from a higher point of view, I believe we find ourselves at a pivotal moment in the history of this country. Even those who have managed to avoid picking a side to this point will have to pick a side eventually. I don’t think there is any getting around that.
Whether or not we are family, no matter our history, if you pick the insurrectionist, the convicted felon, the misogynist, the fascist, the anarchist; if you choose cruelty over kindness, you are not my people. No matter how badly I might want you to be.
I've been battling with this a lot lately. For me, a major source of stress comes from not knowing where my parents stand exactly on politics at this present moment. I know that they are likely single issue (abortion) voters, but I just can't understand why anyone who thinks of themselves as Christian could align with the current republican party.
They're pretty far removed from my day to day life so I don't need to think on them often, but this sense of dreading the conversation has made me avoidant with them. Through conversations with my therapist I've been able to identify the "warrior" part of me that is willing to "burn the fields" and "salt the earth" - completely cut ties. This part sees things in black and white, and I've come to realize that this is the same or similar part my parents that likely leads to the single issue, narrowmindedness that makes it impossible for them to vote for a democrat.
I still have a ton of work to do before I'm ready to have one or more direct conversations with them about all of this, but through therapy I've found that the thought of it isn't nearly as dreadful as it used to be.
Great article!