November 15, 2024
I’m realizing that Trump supporters must have been really annoying to their Democrat buddies after the 2020 election. When Trump “lost,” we didn’t go away quietly. Even worse, many of us believed the election had been stolen from Trump. How irritating to our Democrat friends.
I wish I could feel more charitable now toward vociferous Democrats who were misled by the media into believing the fantasy of Kamala Harris as a great president (and of course she was going to win). Instead I’m thinking: You lost fair and square, the future is AWESOME, don’t rain on my parade.
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I didn’t even realize the direction of my attitude until someone in an online community, pre-election, waxed enthusiastic about Tim Walz, and post-election, bemoaned how upset “everyone” was.
I didn’t engage, I just refrained from visiting the group again. (I’ve racked my brain to remember if I ever posted or verbalized anything pro-Trump, but I don’t think I did.) A week later, I still don’t know if I’ll go back.
If I had a different personality – if I were different – I could gently remark on the great things that are in the offing with the Trump win (discussions toward ending wars, etc.), but I suspect it would trigger knee-jerk defensive posturing. People afflicted with TDS can’t seem to access rational thinking on the subject of President Trump, no matter what realities and facts exist.
So I’ll stick with Don’t rain on my parade, and head for the exit, at least in the short term.
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I’m experiencing a small slice of what is no doubt an enormous amount of social media turbulence. Some people have hundreds of “friends” on Facebook and other platforms. Is there a great divide occurring between winners and losers, between happy, forward-looking Trump supporters and disappointed, media-deluded folks on the opposite side of the aisle?
If so, I imagine people will deal with it as they see fit, as I did with my own little social media brouhaha. There’s a sense of lingering bitterness, like a bit of shell membrane attached to the sweet walnut meat, which I trust will transmute in time to something more palatable. For now, I consult my discernment meter and distance myself from unpleasantness.
Perhaps I’m channeling the Cowardly Lion. But that’s okay. I always had a soft spot for him, sympathizing with his fears and gladdened by his glorious transformation into a courageous Aslan.
