The Old Me Would Have Been a Trump Supporter
Why the me of today is not
As we near the end of Donald Trump’s single-term presidency, only one thing is more clear to me than how much I detest all he represents. It’s the fact that once upon a time I would have voted for him. Me. A fiercely independent and progressive feminist, outspoken social justice ally, and long-single mom who regularly disagrees with Republicans and conservative policy on the whole.
Twenty years ago, maybe even ten, I would have supported Trump and never thought twice about it.
But that was before I woke to the world of domestic abuse I’d been trapped in, determined that I deserved a better life, and took on the challenge of survival after long-term trauma. That challenge beget immersion (by need, at first, then by choice) into the world of psychology that explains abusive personalities and why some of us become their victims.
It proved as much about addressing who I needed to become — by undergoing the personal growth and evolution that life asks of each of us — as much as the damaging experiences I’d been through and why. My journey, while not easy, changed me into this woman who cannot accept a world where Trump reigns.
My understanding of what creates then enables power and control in abusive circumstances large or small led to a surreal observation of America’s government, under DJT’s lead, as its false narratives and mass-level manipulations ran parallel to the personal life I once lived because of marriage to a narcissist. A narcissist like Donald Trump.
Dr. Mary Trump is a successful clinical psychologist and Donald’s niece. In her book about him, Too Much and Never Enough, she dips into the serious personality disorders that have plagued his life, and how + why his tactics and behaviors of abuse have propelled him to a false success that many revere.
Let’s take a look at what undercurrents of mindset — the same ones, in part, which assisted my abusive marriage — could have led me to Trumpism.
I let others think for me. I was not an independent, critical thinker. That is, I looked to others who were so (overly) confident — full of their own hype — that I blindly trusted they knew what they were talking about, much better than I, and didn’t dare consider anything converse. I let those self-assured personalities, like my ex-husband, pick me up as a submissive, small fish and carry me in their stream of belief.
I fell for religious rhetoric. The old me was naive. She assumed that belonging to a church community, attending regular services, even posing with a Bible in front of a house of worship, superseded whatever else an individual may be capable of and, surely, meant they must be a-okay. If they’re a “believer,” then they always mean well and would do others no harm. Right?
I believed people at face value. I was painfully slow in learning that some people aren’t what they present. They hide their truths behind a mask; their realities behind a facade built with smoke and mirrors. These folks want their public to believe only the best, cleanest, most successful things about them, but don’t actually behave like their pretenses, their careful reputation would indicate.
I chose willful ignorance. When you allow in yourself the comfort of unawareness, you don’t have to do the work of thinking for yourself. You don’t have to take a close look at what hurts. You don’t have to consider that your blind decisions or uninformed presumptions might have a negative effect on your own authentic happiness, or other hearts and humans — or that the scope of the world is so much bigger than your tiny, insulated bubble.
I ignored toxic masculinity and misogyny. I fooled myself into dismissing the respect and peace I or others deserved, because the fact that “boys will be boys” meant they didn’t have to be courteous and caring, self-aware and selfless. The Men get to where they are (read: successful, rich, a boss — you know, the important things) by bulldozing through life with arrogance and control. Who cares if they hurt others, women, along the way?
I didn’t have any boundaries. Abusers need to know if they can break your personal rules, so they push and challenge from the beginning. The more they get away with, the more they butter you up, tell you what you want to hear, lie, break promises, minimize, gaslight, manipulate, take advantage, so that they might feel big and special. Better than their partner, friends, enemies. Because the more nonexistent our boundaries, the better their egos thrive.
I contributed to impression management. It’s all fake! I’m being played! And it feels kind of hollow! But the pomp and circumstance makes me think I have to be super enthusiastic, and grateful to be part of this, and accepting of whatever fate is handed to me right here, right now! And I’m caught up in the false sense of hope and security! I need others to see how happy I am! Blessed!
Do you see it? Do you see how every one of these examples, pulled from my own life, could be superimposed over our experience with the 45th president of the United States?
Can you see how these mindsets and their contexts enable power and control for those who have abusive personalities? And who choose to manipulate their way into what they want when they want it, and on their own terms? No rules nor laws need to apply to their actions. No conscience. No empathy. No real caring about who they affect or how. This is an absolute truth whether we’re talking about a national figure or the “nice guy” who lives next door.
Abusive behavior, lack of character, false pretenses, corruption, etc., completely invalidate any other “qualities” a narcissist like Trump may have. The damage sown must not be overlooked in favor of whatever minimal and exaggerated “good” he’s seemingly done. The imbalance is ludicrous.
I know there are Americans who voted for him (once and again) only because he represented the (supposed) Republican party and it’s all they’ll affiliate with, or because they are single-issue voters, and the conservative ticket opposes (for example) abortion. They don’t truly “support” Trump, they say. Except one cannot separate a vote in his name from all the disaster and damage he’s done to our country, to its communities and minorities, to our allies and crucial coalitions. Right?
Those mindsets. They’re a problem. A systemic problem.
The old me didn’t understand any of this. She was so brainwashed and blinded.
Until finally she wasn’t anymore.
