On Boundaries, Resistance, and the Difficulties Ahead

Gone are the days of passive engagement—our new reality demands our active attention. Cutting ties with those who enable authoritarianism is just as essential as creating and nurturing community.

As the first month of Trump's second term comes to a close, the institutions I once believed to be resilient are being dismantled with reckless abandon. For years, my concerns about where our country was headed were dismissed by family members and friends as reactionary and paranoid. Nearly every worst-case scenario I saw coming actually happened, and suddenly the schadenfreude of I told you so had lost its appeal.

Last year, when Project 2025 began making the rounds on social media, I had a few conversations with conservative family members who were insistent on voting for Trump. I explained my concerns with Project 2025, and I was repeatedly met with "Trump isn't associated with Project 2025" as well as a lack of concern about the consequences of enacting any of the document's agenda. It was like talking to a wall, trying to get people I cared about to exhibit an iota of empathy toward LGBTQIA+ people, women, immigrants and people of color. I explained in detail how the various initiatives within its pages would personally harm me and people I cared for. I tried to meet them where they were and explain how much of it was unconstitutional and antithetical to their professed conservative values. It didn't matter. The end result of these conversations was their demand that we no longer discuss politics, and their refusal to comprehend that as a gay man I am unable to separate my identity and life from politics.

When it became clear on election night that Trump would be our next President, I began a long grieving process. First, the fear set in. It was quickly followed by rage. I found myself thinking of ways out. How could me and my husband escape before it was too late? I was (and still am) unemployed, so maybe I could start looking for jobs in foreign countries. Establish a new home somewhere politically safe. But the more we talked about plan B's, the more we realized Seattle was our home. It has been our safe place. We met here, fell in love here, built community and friendships here. It felt wrong to abandon all of that love and joy when it was all that mattered to us in the end.

About a month after the election my Trump-supporting family reached out to see if we could break the ice. For them, I imagine, it was just another election. They got what they wanted, and I would just have to deal with it for another four years. In the past, we did this song and dance of not speaking for periods of time over political disagreements only to reconnect, patch things up, and pretend to agree to disagree. I'll be honest, I never truly moved on from previous disagreements. And yes, I cut them off multiple times. But I always reopened those wounds and sought understanding, because one of my biggest flaws is thinking I can change people's minds by being vulnerable and opening up to them. From 2020-2024, I did just that, but when those election results came in last November, something finally clicked for me. I couldn't play the game anymore. It was asymmetrical warfare, and I was always going to be the one who had to compromise my values to keep the peace with people who would happily stab me in the back at the ballot box.

Growing up, you're taught that blood is blood—and when you grow up Mormon, you're taught that family is forever. It isn't until you actually grow up that you discover family is who you choose to share your life with. I have long battled with myself over whether familial relationships should be maintained, regardless of the pain and harm they may cause. I can say now, without reservation, that they shouldn't be. To me, love is a verb. It's something you do, not just say. You can tell me you love me, but if you vote for people who actively harm me, or wish to erase me from history, you truly don't love me. I have empathy for those who supported Trump. Even if they cheer on his every unconstitutional and bigoted act. And I can even care for them in the sense that they are people I am biologically tied to, with whom I share a rich and storied past. They are people I have actively loved, who I still love, but who are lost to me. Going forward, it is clear that there is no getting through to them. They will only wake up when the boot of authoritarianism directly affects them. By then, it will be far too late, and there will be no coming back from it in my lifetime. I no longer choose to waste my every breath trying to get people to see my humanity, or to help them break free from their cult. Only they can do that.

The months and years to come are destined to be some of the most harrowing our country has ever seen. Right now, Project 2025 is being enacted by the book, institutions are being dismantled, lives are being destroyed, families are being separated, and an unelected billionaire is executing a coup of our democracy. Every morning is a literal Russian Roulette of unimaginable horrors in a never-ending doomscroll feed of bullshit, forced upon us by a neo-fascist movement that seeks to send us back to the dark ages.

How do we move forward? I won't pretend to have the answers. What I do know, however, is that community is essential to survival. My husband, our chosen family, our friends, the political organizations we belong to—that's community. We must nurture those relationships and protect and defend one another no matter the cost. I also know that information and its distribution is vital to surviving under authoritarianism. Social media and legacy media have already demonstrated they will bend the knee to appease Trump and his movement, so it's imperative we organize and inform by alternative means. Examples of this include: moving critical conversations to encrypted apps like Signal, deactivating X and Meta accounts and moving to apps and services like BlueSky and Mastodon, reading local and independent media, and organizing at a local grassroots level. We can also stop spending our hard-earned dollars at corporations who actively support this administration and cave to the "anti-woke" movement. If a company has shown they don't care about you, spend your money elsewhere.

History has shown us where our current path leads, and it's deeply terrifying. I admit that I am afraid, and I'm full of righteous rage. What I won't allow, is for our current reality to destroy me. As difficult as every day has become, I know that at the end of each one, I can look my husband in the eyes and know he loves me without condition. I know that we can play a game with our friends and laugh our asses off at an inside joke, and they have our backs. I know that my sister will always be at the other end of that phone, and my girlfriend won't hesitate to pick me up for a horror movie outing to escape it all. I know that there is so much love and compassion around us, and people really do care for one another. This is what I will cling to as we move forward into this dark unknown.

It's my hope that this site will prove helpful to those who come across it. I will share the news I see fit to share, speak on current events, and share my thoughts on various important and timely issues. Maybe in time, others will contribute to this site, and we will build a beautiful, informed, resilient community together.

I look forward to that.