On Paper, I Should Have Voted for Trump

I have agonized over how to write this, and still, I find myself at a loss for words as to how so many individuals could support such a hateful individual – even more so the ones who chose to sit on the sidelines and allow this to happen, arguing their passivity was entirely valid.

Trying to tease apart what occurred – those who voted for Trump, those who opted out of voting entirely – has been an emotional exercise in futility. 

The fact of the matter is, that there is no logical answer because political choices are never logical. 

If it were based on logic, they’d recognize that the position of the president has never controlled the price of eggs or gasoline. They’d acknowledge that Trump has filed for bankruptcy six times. They’d also take into consideration that the founders of this country never intended it to be a Christian nation.

No, these choices are not based on facts. 

They are inherently emotionally driven, and politicians know this – some more than others. They appeal to our fears and hopes, and that is how they’re chosen.

To fully discuss one’s actions and beliefs, especially in the political space, one must first account for all lived experiences. Some experiences led me to vote for Harris – and some should have led me to vote for Trump.

Some might cry, “identity politics,” but I argue all politics are intrinsically intertwined with our identities. We vote the way we do because of who we are – because of our multifaceted identities and how they’ve shaped our reality.

So, this is why I should have voted for Trump based on those identities – and why I ultimately didn’t despite it all.

Growing up

In rural Maine, many of us are still quite religious. I was baptized in the Episcopal church. Maine is already poor, so being in one of the many rural regions means we had even less wealth in my hometown of Waterboro. The state is overwhelmed by tourists in the summer months, and in the winter, everyone from away – well, runs away. The cold makes us bitter, but it can’t hold a candle to how many of us feel about out-of-staters. 

Being rural born to a low-income family, I should have voted for Trump. Harboring such anger against those from away, I should have voted for Trump.

My father’s side of the family has been here since the early 1600s; we have proof of that through documentation and, thanks to science, through 23andMe as well. We colonized what is now Maine very early on, and we were some of the first white people up there. That legacy carries much history – all nuanced, none heroic. But we did fight to create the country that we stand in today. That side of the family also includes many veterans – my father is one of them. My family has fought for this country across generations and centuries.

Being the daughter of a veteran and a descendant of one of the first European families to come to this continent, I should have voted for Trump.

My mother’s side is more varied; her family came over in pieces between 1850-1930, immigrants from Ireland and Italy during a time when citizens from both weren’t considered white enough. They came over, however, the “legal” way, as Trump supporters would argue now – through Ellis Island. They were forced to adapt and to drop their cultures – pushed into a milquetoast mold where anything unique was stripped alongside the clothes they left on Ellis Island. 

Based on how older immigrant families often vote against newer ones, I should have voted for Trump.

We could look at the fact that I’m a white woman married to a white man, that I was raised Christian, but that would be low-hanging fruit. It’s just too easy to say –

I should have voted for Trump.

What you don’t see

What you don’t see, what you can’t see, are the identities I hide below my skin. I keep them within, showing only when I feel safe to do so. Yes, I’m white and I’m cisgender. That affords me quite a bit of privilege.

I’m also bisexual. It’s easy to hide that when you’re married to a straight, white, cis man with the name, “Christian.” If he had a trust fund, it’d be the ultimate expression of finding privilege in a spouse. Alas, alack.

I’m also disabled; I was diagnosed with PTSD, depression, anxiety – the trifecta. Recently, I was diagnosed with otosclerosis. I’ve also been paradiagnosed – you know, when nobody knows what’s happening to your body, so they just shrug and go, “We think it’s this?” – with endometriosis and IBS.

I’m a survivor of rape. There’s no witty follow-up to that truth. It just is.

These identities, along with being a woman, cause me to rage against the possible outcomes this presidency holds for many. In the queer community, friends of mine are rushing into marriage because they fear it will be illegal again soon. I have friends who are also disabled and rely on social security just to live. Some of them are already preparing to lose access to their medication.

And those of us who have been betrayed by another human being? I will speak only for myself in this instance because every survivor must be permitted their own voice. I will never understand nor forgive any person who supports a known rapist – and that includes voting for one. Doing so condones those actions in the eyes of this survivor. They are saying that they care more for the price of eggs than they do the brutality faced by so many of us.

I have no words for that, only rage and disgust.

Trump was never for America – and he still isn’t

These are the very pieces of me that smoldered in 2016 – and reignited in 2024.

I’m not afraid of a bad economy – I know how to make ends meet at any cost. I understand the pride in fighting for a nation – only to then have that nation turn its back on you. And I’m fully aware of just how fragile democracy is – and how quickly it could dissolve because of mass hysteria.

I said this in 2016, and I will say it again – Trump is a traitor to this country. To vote for him, to support him goes against what this country’s ideals are.

Those below the age of twenty-five who voted for him at least have the excuse that their brains haven’t fully formed. Regardless, many have condemned our country to a potential fascist government.

I hear arguments already from the trolls online and the middle-aged white men with little to lose: this is just feeding into dissent; this is divisive; this is fearmongering. 

What’s feeding into dissent is voting for a man who’s a literal criminal, who has raped women. What’s divisive is the hatred that so many minorities in this country face for the sheer fact that they exist – god forbid we have any differences. As for fear-mongering… I say, wait and see. We see the writing on the wall. I pray they’re right – that this is just worry, anxiety over nothing.

And when it isn’t? I pray they remember they cosigned this forsaken contract. Will they repent? That’s doubtful. They know exactly what they’re doing.

Perhaps that’s not very Christian of me. It’s a damn good thing we’re not in a Christian nation, then.