AN OPEN LETTER TO EVERY FORMER TRUMP SUPPORTER, “BOTH SIDES” INDEPENDENT, AND EVERY PERSON WHO COULDN’T BE BOTHERED TO VOTE.
First…
Welcome. We see you’ve finally arrived. Incidentally, the emergency exit was over there the whole fucking time.
Now, before we all lock arms and sing “Kumbaya” because you’ve recently discovered that fire is, in fact, hot…
There is something you need to understand. You don’t just owe America an apology.
You owe us one. Personally.
Because for the better part of a decade, every goddamn warning we gave was met with the same smug bullshit.
“You’re overreacting.”
“You’re hysterical.”
“Calm down.”
“Touch grass.”
“Trump Derangement Syndrome.”
Remember that one? You people diagnosed half the country with an imaginary mental illness because we had the audacity to read the fucking news.
We told you he’d attack elections. You laughed.
We told you he’d treat the Constitution like it was printed on Charmin. You laughed.
We told you he admired dictators. You laughed.
We told you tariffs weren’t magical economic fairy dust. You laughed.
We told you that rights, institutions, alliances, and democratic norms were a lot easier to destroy than rebuild. You laughed.
We told you that chaos wasn’t an accident. It was the business model. You laughed.
Every. Single. Time.
Then reality showed up carrying a baseball bat. Now the prices are still climbing.
Now the promises didn’t magically come true. Now international crises didn’t vanish because somebody declared themselves a master negotiator. Now government institutions are being bent into pretzels.
Now you’re posting things like…“I didn’t think he’d actually do that.” No shit. WE DID.
That’s why we were screaming. The part that really chaps my ass isn’t that you were wrong.
People are wrong all the time. It’s that you made being wrong into a goddamn spectator sport. You ridiculed us. You sneered. You made memes.
You called us traitors, communists, snowflakes, groomers, enemies of America, and every other stupid label you could pull out of the MAGA Grab Bag of Bullshit.
You weren’t merely unconvinced. You were contemptuous. You mocked people who were trying to keep the country from driving off a cliff.
And now that you’ve looked over the guardrail and noticed the pavement rushing toward your face, you’re asking everyone to be understanding.
Sure. Eventually. But first? Own every fucking second of it.
Don’t tell us you were “misled.” You were warned. Repeatedly.
Loudly. In detail. With receipts.
You just decided the people warning you were the enemy. That’s on you.
So yes, if you’ve changed your mind, welcome back. Sincerely.
Democracy needs people who are willing to admit they were wrong. But don’t skip the part where you apologize to the people you spent years ridiculing for being right.
Because this wasn’t just about Trump. It was about treating anyone who disagreed with you like they were crazy, stupid, or evil, when many of us were simply paying attention.
You don’t owe us worship. You don’t owe us sainthood. You owe us the words you refused to say while you were busy laughing.
“I was wrong.”
“You were right.”
Then we can get on with the miserable business of fixing the damage. But before you come back into the building, wipe your fucking feet.
By Robert Fawkes
First…
Welcome. We see you’ve finally arrived. Incidentally, the emergency exit was over there the whole fucking time.
Now, before we all lock arms and sing “Kumbaya” because you’ve recently discovered that fire is, in fact, hot…
There is something you need to understand. You don’t just owe America an apology.
You owe us one. Personally.
Because for the better part of a decade, every goddamn warning we gave was met with the same smug bullshit.
“You’re overreacting.”
“You’re hysterical.”
“Calm down.”
“Touch grass.”
“Trump Derangement Syndrome.”
Remember that one? You people diagnosed half the country with an imaginary mental illness because we had the audacity to read the fucking news.
We told you he’d attack elections. You laughed.
We told you he’d treat the Constitution like it was printed on Charmin. You laughed.
We told you he admired dictators. You laughed.
We told you tariffs weren’t magical economic fairy dust. You laughed.
We told you that rights, institutions, alliances, and democratic norms were a lot easier to destroy than rebuild. You laughed.
We told you that chaos wasn’t an accident. It was the business model. You laughed.
Every. Single. Time.
Then reality showed up carrying a baseball bat. Now the prices are still climbing.
Now the promises didn’t magically come true. Now international crises didn’t vanish because somebody declared themselves a master negotiator. Now government institutions are being bent into pretzels.
Now you’re posting things like…“I didn’t think he’d actually do that.” No shit. WE DID.
That’s why we were screaming. The part that really chaps my ass isn’t that you were wrong.
People are wrong all the time. It’s that you made being wrong into a goddamn spectator sport. You ridiculed us. You sneered. You made memes.
You called us traitors, communists, snowflakes, groomers, enemies of America, and every other stupid label you could pull out of the MAGA Grab Bag of Bullshit.
You weren’t merely unconvinced. You were contemptuous. You mocked people who were trying to keep the country from driving off a cliff.
And now that you’ve looked over the guardrail and noticed the pavement rushing toward your face, you’re asking everyone to be understanding.
Sure. Eventually. But first? Own every fucking second of it.
Don’t tell us you were “misled.” You were warned. Repeatedly.
Loudly. In detail. With receipts.
You just decided the people warning you were the enemy. That’s on you.
So yes, if you’ve changed your mind, welcome back. Sincerely.
Democracy needs people who are willing to admit they were wrong. But don’t skip the part where you apologize to the people you spent years ridiculing for being right.
Because this wasn’t just about Trump. It was about treating anyone who disagreed with you like they were crazy, stupid, or evil, when many of us were simply paying attention.
You don’t owe us worship. You don’t owe us sainthood. You owe us the words you refused to say while you were busy laughing.
“I was wrong.”
“You were right.”
Then we can get on with the miserable business of fixing the damage. But before you come back into the building, wipe your fucking feet.
By Robert Fawkes