Healing After Religious Abuse: A Conversation with Connie A. Baker
Religious abuse can leave deep scars—ones that don’t just fade with time but require intentional healing. In this week’s conversation, I sat down with Connie A. Baker, author of Traumatized by Religious Abuse, for an honest and heartfelt discussion about the journey of healing from spiritual trauma. Connie shares her own experiences, the painful realities of the “second wound,” and how survivors can reclaim their emotional autonomy after years of manipulation and control.
Why Healing Can’t Be Rushed
One of the most profound takeaways from our conversation was the reminder that healing isn’t something to bulldoze through. Connie calls herself a “recovering bulldozer,” always pushing to move forward as quickly as possible. But in trauma recovery, speed can be counterproductive. She embraces the mantra, slow is steady, and steady is fast. For survivors, learning to slow down and allow healing to unfold naturally is essential. Trying to rush past the pain often leads to setbacks, while true recovery requires patience, self-compassion, and time.
The Second Wound: Betrayal After Speaking Out
Connie describes how only 25% of the damage she endured came from the abuse itself—the remaining 75% came from the judgment, rejection, and betrayal she faced when she spoke out. This “second wound” is a devastating reality for many survivors who expect support but instead encounter disbelief, gaslighting, or outright hostility.
I resonated deeply with this. When I began speaking about my own experiences within the church, I was met with accusations of backsliding, manipulation, and spiritual rebellion. Survivors already carry the weight of their trauma, and the added burden of social ostracization can feel insurmountable.
So how do we heal from this betrayal? Connie shares practical steps, including:
Finding safe, validating spaces where your story is heard and honored.
Understanding that others’ disbelief or discomfort does not negate your truth.
Developing strong boundaries to protect yourself from further harm.
Naming Abuse and Embracing Spectrum Thinking
One of the most insidious aspects of religious abuse is the difficulty of naming it. Many survivors downplay their experiences, believing that if they weren’t physically harmed, it “wasn’t that bad.” But Connie emphasizes that minimizing abuse hinders healing.
Abuse exists on a spectrum—from coercive control and emotional manipulation to outright physical harm. Recognizing where an experience falls on that spectrum is crucial for understanding the impact and taking steps toward recovery. This applies beyond religion too—cults, MLMs, and even rigid ideological movements can exhibit the same coercive tactics found in high-control religious environments.
Developing spectrum thinking—moving away from rigid “all or nothing” perspectives—allows survivors to see the full picture. Instead of thinking, “I was never physically hurt, so it wasn’t abuse,” they can acknowledge, “This environment manipulated me, eroded my self-trust, and controlled my emotions. That was harmful.”
Reclaiming Emotional Autonomy
Spiritual abuse often hinges on emotional suppression. Survivors are told that negative emotions—anger, sadness, fear—are sinful or a sign of weak faith. Verses like “Rejoice in the Lord always” and “Be anxious for nothing” are weaponized to shame people into emotional denial.
But emotions provide vital information. Anger tells us when our boundaries have been crossed. Sadness signals loss and the need for healing. Anxiety can be a survival mechanism. Connie reminds us that full wisdom comes from embracing the entire spectrum of human emotions.
Learning to trust yourself again after years of emotional control is no small feat. Some practical steps include:
Allowing yourself to feel emotions without labeling them as good or bad.
Recognizing when religious conditioning is silencing your true feelings.
Using anger constructively—to set boundaries rather than self-destruct.
Wrestling with Worldview: From Spiritual to Materialist and Back Again
Many survivors of religious abuse go through a radical shift in their worldview. Some reject spirituality entirely, embracing a materialist perspective where only the tangible world is real. Others swing to the opposite extreme, seeking comfort in rigid new belief systems.
Connie highlights that this spectrum—from deeply spiritual to strictly materialist—is something many survivors navigate as they attempt to make sense of their experiences. Some turn to hedonism—“Eat, drink, and be merry”—while others find meaning in service, activism, or intellectual pursuits. What matters most isn’t where someone lands on the spectrum but rather the process of wrestling with meaning, truth, and autonomy after religious trauma.
Final Thoughts
Healing from religious abuse is not linear. It’s messy, painful, and often isolating. But as Connie’s journey shows, it’s possible. By embracing the full range of emotions, setting firm boundaries, and recognizing abuse for what it is, survivors can reclaim their autonomy and rebuild a life of freedom and self-trust.
If you’re in the midst of this journey, know that you are not alone. Whether you’re deconstructing, reconstructing, or simply trying to make sense of it all, your experiences are valid. And healing—real, lasting healing—is possible.
What part of this conversation resonated most with you? Drop a comment and let’s keep the discussion going.
And as always: Maintain your curiosity, embrace skepticism, and keep tuning in! 🎙️🔒
How Media Manipulation and Pseudo-Intellectualism Are Undermining Independent Thought
In today’s episode of Taste of Truth Tuesdays, I sit down with Franklin O’Kanu, also known as The Alchemik Pharmacist, to unpack one of the most pressing issues of our time: the erosion of critical thinking. Franklin, founder of Unorthodoxy, brings a unique perspective that bridges science, spirituality, and philosophy. Together, we explore how media narratives, pseudo-intellectualism, and societal conditioning have trained people to ignore their inner “Divine BS meter” and simply accept what they’re told.
The Death of Critical Thinking
As Franklin points out, we’ve lost the ability to thoughtfully absorb and analyze information. The past few years have conditioned individuals to disregard anything that doesn’t align with mainstream sources, experts, or consensus. Instead of engaging with information critically, many have been taught to dismiss it outright. The result? A culture that values conformity over curiosity and blind acceptance over intellectual rigor.
We discuss how this shift has been accelerated by media bombardment, especially during the pandemic. The New York Times even published an article on critical thinking, but instead of encouraging intellectual engagement, it suggested that questioning mainstream narratives is dangerous. This is narrative warfare at its finest—manipulating public perception to ensure that only “approved” ideas are given legitimacy.
The Power of Narratives: How Ideological Echo Chambers Shape Reality
Franklin O’Kanu often cites James Corbett’s work on media’s role in shaping public perception as a major inspiration behind his Substack. Corbett’s central thesis is simple: narratives build realities—and whoever controls the dominant narrative controls public thought. Nowhere is this clearer than in the nihilistic messaging that dominates left-leaning social media platforms like Meta. The idea that humans are an irredeemable blight on the planet has been mainstreamed, despite evidence to the contrary.
This same unquestioning adherence to an ideological narrative played out during the pandemic with phrases like “Trust the science” and “Don’t do your own research.”I explored this trend in my Substack, particularly through the lens of so-called ‘cult expert’ Steven Hassan. Hassan built his career exposing ideological manipulation, branding himself as the foremost authority on cult mind control. But here’s the irony: while he calls out high-control religious groups, he seems completely blind to the cult-like tactics within his own political ideology.
Information Control: Censoring ‘Dangerous’ Ideas
Hassan’s BITE model—which stands for Behavior, Information, Thought, and Emotional control—is designed to help people recognize manipulation.
In cults, leaders dictate what information followers can access. The extreme left does the same.
Censorship of Opposing Views – Deplatforming, banning books, firing professors—if an idea threatens the ideology, it’s labeled “harmful” and shut down.
Historical Revisionism – Complex events are reframed to fit simplistic oppression narratives, ignoring inconvenient facts.
Selective Science – Only research that supports the ideology gets funding and visibility. Studies on biological sex differences, IQ variations, or alternative climate models? Silenced or retracted—not because they’re disproven, but because they’re inconvenient.
Discouraging Exposure to Counterarguments – Followers are taught that listening to the other side is “platforming hate” or “giving oxygen to fascism.”
This is exactly what happened when Franklin challenged the mainstream climate change narrative. The moment he questioned NetZero policies, he wasn’t just hit with the usual accusations: “climate denier,” “science denier,” and the ever-expanding list of ideological insults meant to discredit rather than debate, but he was blocked. This is how bad ideas survive—by shutting down the people who challenge them.
Franklin warns that if you’re not careful, these narratives can take you down a dark rabbit hole built on lies. Once an ideological framework is built around selective truth, it becomes a self-reinforcing system—one that punishes dissent and rewards conformity. And once you let someone else dictate what information is “safe” for you to consume, you’re already in the first stages of ideological capture.
The Rise of the Fake Intellectual
Platforms like Facebook/Instagram/YouTube have perfected the illusion of intellectual discourse while actively suppressing opposing voices. This has led to what Franklin calls the fake intellectual—individuals or organizations that present themselves as champions of knowledge but ultimately serve to shut down real dialogue.
Fake intellectuals don’t invite discussion; they police it. They rely on appeals to authority, groupthink, and censorship to maintain an illusion of correctness. True intellectualism, on the other hand, is rooted in curiosity, openness, and the willingness to engage with challenging perspectives.
Reclaiming Intellectual Integrity
One of the most powerful insights from our discussion is the role belief plays in shaping our world. Franklin warns that when we accept narratives without scrutiny, we risk being deceived. This applies across industries—medicine, science, finance, and even religion. These systems function because people believe in them, often without verifying their claims. But if we fail to question these narratives, we become passive participants in a game where only a select few control the rules.
So, how do we resist narrative warfare and reclaim critical thinking? Franklin suggests:
Cultivating intellectual humility—being open to the possibility that we might be wrong.
Recognizing media manipulation—understanding how information is curated to shape public perception.
Engaging with diverse perspectives—actively seeking out voices that challenge our beliefs.
Trusting our own discernment—developing the confidence to think independently instead of outsourcing our opinions to authority figures.
Franklin expands on this in his writings, particularly in his two articles, How to See the World and How to Train Your Mind. As he puts it, “We all have these voices in our heads. Philosophy is really just understanding the reality of the world, and there’s a principle in philosophy—keep things as simple as possible.” He breaks it down like this:
You are a soul. That’s the foundation. If every child grew up knowing this, it would change the way we see ourselves.
You have a body. Your body exists to experience the physical reality of the world.
You have a mind. Your mind is an information processor that collects input from your senses. But it also generates thoughts—sometimes helpful, sometimes misleading.
Franklin uses a simple example: Is my craving for ice cream coming from my body, my mind, or my soul? That question highlights the need to discern where our impulses originate. He extends this concept to online interactions: How many thoughts do we have just from seeing something online? How many narratives do we construct before our soul even has a chance to process reality?
Online spaces, Franklin argues, give rise to what he calls the “inner troll.”🧌 He connects this to the spiritual concept of demons—forces that seek to provoke, enrage, and divide. “Think about the term ‘troll,’” he says. “What is that, really? It’s an inner demon that gets let loose online. The internet makes it easy for our worst instincts to take over.”
So, what’s the antidote? Franklin emphasizes the importance of the pause. Before reacting to something online, before getting swept into outrage, take a step back. Ask: What is happening here? What am I feeling? Is this a real threat, or is my mind generating a reaction?
“It’s extremely hard to do online,” Franklin admits. “But when we practice stepping back, we can respond more humanely—more divinely. That’s the key to reclaiming critical thinking in a world that thrives on emotional manipulation.”
The digital age bombards us with narratives designed to capture our attention, manipulate our emotions, and direct our beliefs. But we are not powerless.
On an episode last season, we discussed a concept I learned from Dr. Greg Karris—something he calls narcissistic rage in fundamentalist ideologies.It helped me understand why people react so viscerally when their beliefs are challenged. My friend Jay described a similar idea as emotional hijacks, tying it to the amygdala’s response. This concept also appears in Emotional Intelligence 2.0 by Daniel Goleman and is expanded upon in Pete Walker’s Complex PTSD.
When the amygdala gets triggered—exactly what Franklin was describing—we have to learn to recognize the physical sensations that come with it. Elevated heart rate. Sweaty palms. That’s your body sounding the alarm. But in that moment, your prefrontal cortex—the part responsible for logic and rational thinking—is offline. Your biology is overriding your soul’s intention. And that’s why taking a step back is so crucial.
The best way to get your higher reasoning back online? Create space. Pause. Let the emotional surge settle before you engage. As simple as it sounds, it’s one of the hardest things to do. But in a world where reactionary thinking is the default, practicing this skill is an act of rebellion—and a path to reclaiming our intellectual and emotional sovereignty.
Next, Franklin and I dive into a pressing issue: The Coddling of the Mind in society—a theme I’ve explored numerous times on the podcast and in my blogs. Franklin brings up a fascinating point, saying, “One thing that’s happened with COVID, though it started before, is the softening of humanity. We’ve become so soft that you can’t say anything anymore. And what that’s done is pushed away true intellectual rigor. We used to be able to sit and share ideas, but now we’re obsessed with safe spaces. And this started on college campuses.”
Franklin’s observation taps into a broader cultural shift that has eroded the foundations of intellectual engagement. In the past, people could engage in discussions where the goal wasn’t necessarily to convince others, but to explore ideas, challenge assumptions, and learn. The push for safe spaces—often an attempt to shield individuals from discomfort or offense—has inadvertently led to the silencing of open debate. In this environment, people have become more focused on avoiding offense than on confronting difficult ideas or engaging in intellectual rigor. This dynamic, Franklin argues, has stripped away the very essence of what it means to debate, discuss, and learn.
This idea echoes themes explored in Gad Saad’s The Parasitic Mind, where Saad delves into how certain ideologies undermine intellectual diversity and critical thinking. Franklin builds on this, urging that true intellectual growth comes from understanding where someone is coming from, even if their views differ from your own. “Learn what happened to individuals to understand how they arrived at their conclusions,” he says. “Remove personal bias and avoid attacks. Only then can you critique the point effectively, offering counterpoints that strengthen both arguments and allow experiences from both sides to shine.” This approach, Franklin explains, fosters a more nuanced understanding of each other’s perspectives, allowing both sides to learn and grow rather than simply entrenched in opposing views.
This fragility encourages echo chambers and groupthink, where dissent is silenced, and alternative perspectives are rejected outright. Ironically, in the pursuit of empathy, freedom, and inclusivity, movements like deconstruction can end up mirroring the same intellectual and moral rigidity they sought to escape.
I could continue typing out the entire conversation, or you could just listen. 🙂
In an age where the appearance of truth is often prioritized over truth itself, our ability to think critically is more important than ever. This episode is an invitation to break free from intellectual complacency and reclaim the power of questioning.
From religion to politics, why deeply held beliefs trigger defensiveness, outrage, and even hostility—and how we can foster better conversations.
We all have seen how the internet seems to bring out everyone’s inner troll. 🧌
The moment a deeply held belief—whether religious or political—is questioned, people lash out with hostility, aggression, or outright rage. Why does this happen? Why do some people react as if their very identity is under attack?
This season on Taste of Truth, we have been expanding the conversation—because this isn’t just about religion. Political ideologies, social movements, and even scientific debates can trigger the same defensive responses.
Fundamentalist thinking—whether in religion or politics—creates a fear-driven, us-vs-them mentality.
At its most basic, the allure of fundamentalism, whether religious or ideological, liberal or conservative, is that it provides an appealing order to things that are actually disorderly. -Peter Mountford
This hits at something crucial that I’ve written about numerous times before: the human brain craves order, even in the face of chaos. The illusion of control is a powerful psychological driver, and our brains reward it with dopamine. Fundamentalist thinking offers a structured, black-and-white framework that feels safe and predictable, making it incredibly appealing—especially in times of uncertainty. It’s why people cling even harder to rigid beliefs when they feel threatened. Whether in faith or politics, the need for certainty can override openness to new information, leading to the defensive reactions we see when those beliefs are questioned.
The moment someone questions the “truth,” it’s perceived as an existential threat, triggering anxiety, cognitive dissonance, and sometimes outright hostility.
Take a look at the patterns:
Verbal Attacks: When someone questions a core belief, the response can be insults, shouting, or belittling. For example, in religious circles, someone questioning doctrine might be labeled a heretic, while in political spaces, dissenters might be called traitors or bigots.
Social Ostracism: In both fundamentalist religious and political groups, those who challenge the status quo risk being shunned, excommunicated, or “canceled.” A former churchgoer who deconstructs their faith may be cut off from their community, just as someone who questions ideological orthodoxy in politics might lose social standing, friendships, or even career opportunities.
Online Harassment: Social media amplifies these reactions. Question a sacred political narrative? Expect dogpiling. Challenge a religious doctrine? Brace yourself for moral outrage. The internet rewards ideological purity and punishes deviation.
Physical Aggression: In extreme cases, questioning or challenging deeply held beliefs can escalate to threats or violence. History is littered with examples—holy wars, political purges, ideological revolutions—all stemming from the belief that certain ideas must be defended at any cost.
This isn’t just about bad behavior—it’s about psychology. When beliefs become intertwined with identity, disagreement feels like a personal attack. Fundamentalist teachings—whether religious or ideological—reinforce this by instilling fear of deviation:
Fear of Deviation – Straying from the accepted belief system is framed as dangerous, whether it’s framed as spiritual damnation or societal collapse.
Cognitive Dissonance – Encountering opposing viewpoints creates internal discomfort, making people double down rather than reconsider.
Fear of Consequences – Whether it’s eternal hellfire or being cast out by one’s political tribe, the cost of questioning is framed as too high.
Identity Threat – When beliefs define self-worth, changing one’s mind feels like losing a part of oneself.
Social Pressure – Communities reinforce conformity, and breaking from the group’s ideology invites punishment.
When Morality Binds and Blinds
In The Righteous Mind, Jonathan Haidt explains how moral systems don’t just guide our sense of right and wrong—they also bind us to our tribes and blind us to opposing perspectives. Morality evolved not just to help individuals make ethical choices but to reinforce group cohesion. When we share a moral framework with others, it strengthens social bonds and builds trust. But there’s a cost: once we’re deeply embedded in a moral community—whether religious, political, or ideological—we stop seeing outside perspectives clearly.
This is why people react with such hostility when their beliefs are challenged. They aren’t just defending a set of ideas; they’re defending their sense of identity, belonging, and moral righteousness. A challenge to the belief feels like a challenge to the self—and to the entire group they’re part of.
This also explains why fundamentalist thinking isn’t confined to religion. Political movements, activist groups, and even secular ideologies can exhibit the same rigid certainty, group loyalty, and hostility toward outsiders. The more a belief system becomes tied to identity, the more resistant it is to change—and the more aggressive the response when it’s questioned.
The antidote? Intellectual humility. The ability to recognize that our beliefs, no matter how deeply held, might be flawed. That truth-seeking requires engaging with discomfort. That real conversations happen not when we dig in our heels but when we’re willing to ask, What if I’m wrong?
These dynamics explain why deconstruction—whether of faith or political ideology—often leads to intense backlash. It also reminds me of our conversation with Neil Van Leeuwen, author of Religion as Make-Believe. He pointed out that factual beliefs thrive on evidence, but religious and ideological beliefs function differently. When a belief becomes part of group identity, truth often takes a backseat. In fact, sometimes falsehoods serve the group better because they reinforce belonging.
To close down the conversation, let’s talk about healthy communities—whether religious, political, or social—embrace intellectual humility. Here’s what that looks like:
Open Dialogue: Encouraging respectful conversations where differing perspectives are explored rather than attacked.
Supportive Community: Allowing for questions, doubts, and evolving beliefs without fear of punishment.
Personal Reflection: Cultivating a mindset that prioritizes growth over ideological purity.
Interdisciplinary Engagement: Seeking insights from multiple fields rather than reinforcing an echo chamber.
By recognizing these patterns, we can navigate our own beliefs with more self-awareness and engage in discussions that foster curiosity rather than hostility. The question isn’t whether we hold tightly to certain beliefs—it’s whether we’re willing to interrogate why.
So, what’s one belief you’ve held onto tightly that you later questioned?
Breaking Free: A Conversation with Yasmine Mohammed on Radical Islam, Empowerment, and the West’s Blind Spots
After finishing George Orwell’s 1984, I noticed its resurgence in popularity, especially after Trump’s election. Ironically, it’s not the conservative right but the progressive left that increasingly mirrors Orwellian themes. Similarly, Margaret Atwood’s The Handmaid’s Tale has become a rallying cry for liberals who claim to be on the brink of a dystopian theocracy. Yet, as Yasmine Muhammad pointed out in this week’s episode, this comparison is not only absurd but deeply insulting to women who live under regimes where Atwood’s fiction is a grim reality.
1984: Rewriting Language and History
The Democratic Party’s obsession with redefining language is straight out of Orwell’s playbook. They tell us biology is bigotry and that there are infinite genders, forcing people to adopt nonsensical pronouns or risk social ostracism. This is not progress—it’s the weaponization of language to control thought, eerily similar to Orwell’s Newspeak.
But it doesn’t stop there. They actively rewrite history by renaming monuments, military bases, and even schools, erasing cultural markers in the name of ideological purity. This is doublespeak in action: the manipulation of truth for political orthodoxy. Orwell’s warning that “orthodoxy is unconsciousness” feels disturbingly apt when observing the modern left.
The Handmaid’s Tale: An Insult to Women Who Actually Suffer
In our conversation, Yasmine highlighted the absurdity of liberal claims that America is The Handmaid’s Tale come to life. Yasmine, who grew up under Islamic theocracy, knows firsthand what it’s like to live in a world where women have no autonomy. These women cannot see a doctor without a male guardian, are forced to cover every inch of their bodies, and are denied basic freedoms like education or the right to drive.
Contrast this with the West, where women have more freedom than any other point in history. Liberal women can run around naked at Pride parades, freely express their sexuality, and redefine what it means to be a woman altogether. And yet, they cry oppression because they are expected to pay for their own birth control or endure debates over abortion limits. This level of cognitive dissonance—claiming victimhood while living in unprecedented freedom—is a slap in the face to women who actually suffer under real patriarchal oppression.
Liberal Orthodoxy: Lost in the Sauce
What’s truly Orwellian is how the left uses its freedom to strip others of theirs. They shout about inclusivity but cancel anyone who disagrees. They claim to fight for justice while weaponizing institutions to enforce ideological conformity. Meanwhile, they are so consumed with their own victim complex that they fail to see how absurd their comparisons to dystopian fiction really are.
Orwell and Atwood warned against unchecked power and ideological extremism. If liberals actually read these books instead of using them as aesthetic props, they might realize they’re mirroring the very authoritarianism they claim to oppose. Instead, they’re lost in the sauce, preaching oppression in a society where they have more freedom than they can handle.
As Yasmine said, “You want to see The Handmaid’s Tale? Try being a woman in Saudi Arabia, Iran, or Afghanistan.” The left would do well to remember that before playing the victim in their cosplay dystopia.
What’s a racist, homophobe, sexist, bigot, or hater? Apparently, anyone winning an argument with a liberal these days.
This year has been a wild ride. It began with me terrified of Satan, demons, and the Apocalypse, only to be ending it realizing the real danger isn’t hellfire—it’s the dogmas we create here on Earth. I didn’t grow up religious. In fact, I was raised secular, moved to Portland, OR after college, and could give you a TED Talk on progressive ideals. But then the pandemic hit, and somewhere between sourdough starters and doomscrolling, I found myself deep in the throes of fundamentalist Christianity.
That’s right—I started the year in a cult. It took months to deconstruct my faith, peel back the layers of fear-based control, and reimagine spirituality beyond the man-made monotheistic God I was sold. Yet, just as I was catching my breath, I noticed something chilling: the same patterns of zealotry I had fled were alive and well in the secular world.
Wokeness, with its sermons on systemic oppression and sacraments of allyship, has become the new secular religion. It demands unwavering faith, punishes heretics, and offers little room for redemption. And just like the fire-and-brimstone preachers I’d left behind, its most fervent believers seem less interested in dialogue and more intent on moral superiority.
Thought leaders like John McWhorter (Woke Racism), Yasmine Mohammed (Unveiled), and Douglas Murray (The Madness of Crowds) have drawn the same parallels: woke ideology mirrors religious extremism, complete with its own prophets and purges. And as someone who’s lived through both kinds of radicalism, I’m here to tell you—it’s not just unsettling; it’s dangerous.
How woke ideology mirrors religious extremism
In my podcast episode titled Faith Unbound: Navigating the Process of Disentanglement—or rather, Deconversion—I delved into my initial discovery of the Ex-evangelical Christian network. Back in February 2024, it felt like a lifeline, a safe haven for questioning my former religious beliefs. But after 6–7 months of immersion, patterns began to emerge. While the movement has been instrumental for many, I couldn’t ignore the creeping rigidity and tribalism. The hunger for certainty, the need to be on the “right side,” often replaces one dogma with another.
A striking example of this surfaced in Sexvangelicals’ episode How to Do Social Justice This Election Season Without Being a Jackass. They state:
“November’s presidential election offers a stark contrast between two types of government. One is democracy, built on the idea that many people have voices and, ideally, a government that serves a broad population. The other is autocracy, which operates on the belief that only a few have a say. Autocracies, like the 2024 Republican Party, often communicate through tactics such as blame, repression, and fear-mongering. In our latest episode, we discuss common communication strategies used by autocracies and how progressives and pro-democracy voters can avoid responding in ways that reinforce jackassdom.”
My response? “It’s not your enemies, it’s the system.” This narrative reduces a complex political landscape into a simplistic moral battle, with one side as saviors of democracy and the other as agents of autocracy. But this dichotomy misses the bigger picture. Who really shapes policy in America?
A 2014 study by Martin Gilens and Benjamin Page, often dubbed the “Oligarchy Study,” analyzed policy decisions across two decades. It revealed that elites and organized interest groups wield disproportionate influence over government decisions, while the average citizen’s impact is negligible. This stark reality transcends partisan politics and lays bare a systemic issue: power isn’t held by the left or right—it’s concentrated in the hands of those who profit from our division.
By framing every election as a battle for democracy versus tyranny, we’re falling into the trap of distraction. The real question isn’t, “Which side am I on?” but, “Who benefits from keeping me here, fighting, and not looking beyond this binary?”
The claim that the Republican Party represents an autocracy, as made by Sexvangelicals, is not just simplistic—it’s laughably disconnected from reality. To label one political party as authoritarian while ignoring the bipartisan complicity in maintaining an oligarchic system is either naïve or willfully ignorant.
Take the oligarchic nature of U.S. politics. Both major parties have long benefited from the concentration of wealth and power at the top. Consider the case of former House Speaker Nancy Pelosi, whose net worth has ballooned through stock trades that suspiciously align with her legislative influence. Or Barack Obama (Barry Soetoro), who went from public servant to multi-millionaire, cashing in on book deals, speaking engagements, and lucrative partnerships with Netflix after leaving office.
Then there’s President Joe Biden. While progressives champion him as a defender of democracy, his record is far from pristine. Most recently, questions surrounding his son Hunter Biden’s international business dealings—spanning over a decade—have drawn scrutiny. Hunter’s alleged tax evasion and unregistered foreign lobbying have raised concerns, yet he continues to receive leniency from the justice system.
This isn’t to excuse Republicans from criticism, but the suggestion that they alone embody authoritarian tendencies is absurd when Democrats have equally reaped the rewards of an oligarchic system. Both parties serve the interests of economic elites and organized lobbyists far more faithfully than they do the average voter.
The Magnet, from Puck, 1911.(Udo J. Keppler / Library of Congress)
The bipartisan reality of the oligarchy dismantles the “democracy versus autocracy” narrative. For instance, the same Gilens and Page study cited earlier reveals that the preferences of the bottom 90% of income earners have statistically no impact on policy outcomes. Meanwhile, corporate donors and lobbying groups continue to hold sway over legislation regardless of which party is in power.
By framing Republicans as the sole villains in this story, Sexvangelicals perpetuates the kind of shallow tribalism that fuels division while leaving the real culprits—wealthy elites and corporate interests—untouched. The truth is that our democracy has been compromised for decades, and it will remain so until both sides of the aisle are held accountable for their role in preserving this oligarchic system.
Instead of directing anger at individuals or parties, we should be asking: How do we break free from a system designed to keep us pointing fingers at each other while those in power profit from the chaos?
From Crunchy Hippie to Conservative Christian Pipeline: My Journey Through the Radicalization Maze
Growing up secular, I’d have laughed at the idea that I would someday align with conservative or religious ideologies. Portland, Oregon, was my playground of progressive ideals—a city where conservatism felt like the root of every societal ill. But life has a way of challenging our convictions. Late in the pandemic, isolated and seeking meaning, I fell into an extreme version of Christianity. What I once dismissed as unthinkable became my new normal—until it wasn’t. Earlier this year, I deconstructed those beliefs, peeling back the layers of what led me there. Read/listen all about HERE!
Now, I can see the flaws and virtues of both worlds, which is why I find the frame of mind in deconstruction spaces puzzling. Many accounts misrepresent or overgeneralize conservatives—the very people they once were or grew up with—and cast the same stones they once had thrown at them.
It reminds me of this quote from the book The Righteous Mind:
“I had escaped from my prior partisan mind-set (reject first, ask rhetorical questions later) and began to think about liberal and conservative policies as manifestations of deeply conflicting but equally heartfelt visions of the good society. It felt good to be released from partisan anger. And once I was no longer angry, I was no longer committed to reaching the conclusion that righteous anger demands: we are right, they are wrong.”
Deconstructing past beliefs should be about nuance, growth, and intellectual humility—not trading one form of black-and-white thinking for another. When we fail to empathize with others’ moral frameworks, we miss out on a deeper understanding of the human experience.
Many in the ex-evangelical space now lean far left in their political views, where values like care, fairness, and empathy take center stage. Conservative values like loyalty and authority are dismissed or viewed with suspicion, fostering an “us vs. them” mentality.
This cultural shift into victimhood is explored further in The Coddling of the American Mind by Greg Lukianoff and Jonathan Haidt, who identify three “Great Untruths” that help explain these societal trends:
1) “What doesn’t kill you makes you weaker,”
2) “Always trust your feelings,”
3) “Life is a battle between good people and evil people.”
These untruths, they argue, contribute to fragility, discourage critical thinking, and promote a tribal mentality—characteristics that are increasingly evident in both the deconstruction space and parts of the progressive left. The focus on emotional responses over rational thought and the growing divide between “us” and “them” only strengthens these dynamics. For a deeper dive into this.
Woke Ideology as a Secular Faith: A Closer Look
“What we’re seeing isn’t a quest for justice but a demand for unquestioning orthodoxy.”
John McWhorter argues that wokeism functions like a full-fledged religion. It provides a moral framework that mirrors traditional religious beliefs. Instead of concepts like original sin, wokeism offers “privilege,” positioning those with it as morally compromised. In place of rituals like prayer, adherents perform acts like confessing their biases. And, similar to the salvation promised in traditional religions, salvation in wokeism comes through activism and striving for societal change. He warns that its refusal to tolerate dissent turns it into a rigid orthodoxy rather than a genuine quest for justice. For many, including those who’ve deconstructed evangelical faith, this framework hits uncomfortably close to home.
Many of the individuals I met and conversed with who now identify as progressive or left leaning have simply exchanged the evangelical radicalism of their past for their new liberal beliefs. Social justice, in this sense, has become their new End Times—complete with the same apocalyptic fervor. And it’s painfully obvious.
Douglas Murray discusses this analysis further in The Madness of Crowds. He suggests that wokeism often serves as a substitute for religion in today’s secular world. As belief in traditional religions has waned, people have sought meaning elsewhere—and wokeism fills that void. It provides clear rules and a sense of belonging, but in doing so, it also shuts down open debate and nuanced conversation.
The New Authority: From Sky Daddy to State Agencies
A striking similarity between fundamentalist religion and woke ideology is the relentless worship of authority. For those who’ve left behind their “big sky daddy,” that void has been filled by institutions like the CDC, FDA, and government agencies. The pandemic demonstrated how blind faith can easily shift from divine to institutional.
This is where the religion of scientism enters the picture—where reason and science are elevated to the status of ultimate truth. Figures who present themselves as “experts” rely on surface-level expertise and selective data to craft narratives that appear authoritative, yet fail under scrutiny. They become the “fake intellectuals,” as Franklin O’Kanu calls them, feeding the cult of expertise while often lacking real intellectual rigor. In public health, this plays out with the “revolving door” between regulatory agencies and the pharmaceutical industry, which further complicates the narrative of impartiality.
The “revolving door” describes the flow of personnel between agencies like the CDC and the pharmaceutical industry. This cycle blurs the lines between public service and corporate interest, with former regulators influencing policies that benefit the very companies they once oversaw—creating a potential conflict of interest that’s staggering.
In this new system, the scientific establishment becomes the new authority—replacing the monotheistic idea of God with the “god” of reason and data. For those in the deconstruction space, this is a new form of dogma. It stifles curiosity, dismisses dissent, and discourages critical thinking—all in the name of progress. This mirrors the rigid certainty and tribalism found in the religious structures people sought to escape.
Worshipping “science” or blindly trusting clinical trials can be misleading. While clinical trials are seen as vital for medical progress, they are often heavily influenced by the pharmaceutical industry, which funds a vast majority of these trials. This creates a conflict of interest that can skew results and delay critical information about the risks of drugs. Examples like the Vioxx scandal, where a painkiller was marketed despite internal knowledge of its dangers, and the Tamiflu case, where the effectiveness of the drug was overstated, show how corporate interests can shape clinical trial outcomes. Clinical trials, while important, are not always as objective or transparent as they seem.
Empowering Dangerous Systems
Yasmine Mohammed’s Unveiled pushes the conversation even more, explaining how wokeism can actually empower authoritarian regimes. One key point she makes is how Western progressives, in the name of cultural relativism, avoid criticizing radical Islam. This gives a platform to extremist ideologies, which harms vulnerable groups like women and minorities. She argues,
“By shielding oppressive practices from scrutiny, wokeism betrays the very people it claims to protect.”
The binary “oppressor versus oppressed” narrative has become a staple of modern discourse, particularly within the context of the Israel-Palestine conflict. This oversimplified lens reduces complex geopolitical and historical realities to a stark dichotomy, fostering a dangerous environment where nuance is lost. It’s unnerving to see college students waving the flag of Palestine while simultaneously undermining U.S. monuments and values, while spreading fear mongering lies about Project 2025, and comparing Trump to Hitler. These contradictions are not only mind-numbing but also deeply troubling, signaling a shift toward ideological extremism that dismisses the complexities of any issue in favor of emotional, binary thinking.
Antisemitism has spiked globally after the October 7 attacks on Israel, but this tragic reality has also fueled the misuse of the term “antisemitism” to suppress valid critiques of Israeli policies. Labeling critics as antisemitic conflates political criticism with hate, shutting down meaningful dialogue essential to addressing the Israel-Palestine conflict’s complexities.
This approach mirrors patterns within woke ideology, where dissent is often silenced in the name of ideological purity. The weaponization of identity politics and accusations hinders nuanced discussions and reinforces systems of power, obstructing pathways to justice and true understanding.
Vivek Ramaswamy, in Woke, Inc., adds another layer to this by discussing how authoritarian regimes like China’s Communist Party (CCP) take advantage of woke rhetoric. According to Ramaswamy, the CCP amplifies America’s internal divisions—often fueled by wokeism—to weaken the West. By focusing on these cultural rifts, China diverts attention from its own human rights abuses, all while strengthening its geopolitical position. This is part of China’s broader geopolitical strategy, which seeks to deflect attention from its authoritarian practices while exploiting divisions in Western societies.
This pattern can be seen as part of a broader effort to exploit the distractions created by cultural conflicts to enhance its influence in global organizations, trade, and international relations. For example, while Western nations debate internal social issues, China continues its expansive Belt and Road Initiative, which increases its influence across developing nations.
Heretics and the Price of Dissent
Religious movements and extreme ideologies, like wokeism, are often defined by their treatment of dissenters or heretics. Woke spaces, much like traditional religious communities, are quick to condemn those who question or criticize. Whether it’s TERFs (trans-exclusionary radical feminists) or former progressives like Yasmine Mohammed, those who dissent face severe backlash. This exclusionary behavior creates a stifling environment, not dissimilar to how traditional religions treat apostates. As Douglas Murray puts it, “The hatred reserved for heretics is often more intense than that directed at outsiders.”
But this dynamic is about more than just ideological rigidity—it’s also rooted in human psychology. The human brain is naturally drawn to certainty. When we embrace extreme ideologies, we seek control over our environment, which provides us a sense of stability and security. Research in neuroscience shows that when our beliefs are challenged, we experience discomfort, but defending them can trigger a dopamine response, rewarding us with a sense of control. The brain gets a “hit” from maintaining a sense of certainty, even if it’s at the cost of nuance or rational discussion.
In fact, this need for certainty can become addictive. The human brain often craves certainty in the form of binary thinking—where things are either completely right or completely wrong. This type of thinking is satisfying because it shields us from the cognitive dissonance that arises when faced with complexity or ambiguity. In the case of woke ideology, the call for absolute adherence to certain beliefs or behaviors is not just about social justice—it’s a way to satisfy that neurological need for control. When we feel justified in our beliefs and actions, we receive a dopamine “reward,” reinforcing the behavior.
This addiction to certainty can also be seen in extreme partisanship. The more entrenched we become in one side, the more our brain is rewarded for defending it. It’s why many people in the deconstruction space or on the political left engage in “mental gymnastics”—creating justifications and rationalizations that protect their beliefs. This isn’t just about ideology; it’s about keeping that dopamine reward flowing, keeping the illusion of control intact, and avoiding the discomfort of uncertainty.
The problem is this pattern of thinking isn’t conducive to open dialogue or true critical thinking. The “us vs. them” mentality becomes more pronounced, and the space for nuance, disagreement, and personal growth shrinks. Instead of engaging with opposing views, individuals self-censor or double down on their beliefs, further entrenched in the addictive cycle of ideological purity.
Moving Forward: A Balanced Approach
It’s important to note that this critique isn’t meant to dismiss the noble goals of social justice movements. Addressing inequality and harm in the world is crucial. But when these movements demand absolute loyalty and punish dissent, they lose sight of the very ideals they claim to uphold.
What do you guys think? How do you balance the pursuit of justice with the need for free thought?
Do you see these religious parallels in woke ideology? Are they helpful in understanding these dynamics, or do they oversimplify the issue?
I’d love to hear your thoughts. Comment below, and don’t miss my podcast episode with Yasmine Mohammed dropping 2025 for a deeper dive into these topics!
We’re back! After a transformative and eye-opening second season, I’m excited to announce that Season 3 of Taste of Truth Tuesdays will kick off on December 31st. (Audio says Jan 7th, which was the original start date, I bumped it up a week.) This season promises to be packed with even more riveting conversations and insightful discussions. We’re diving into the complexities of spirituality, healing, activism, mental health, body image, and the power dynamics that shape our lives.
Here’s a sneak peek at the incredible guests you’ll hear from in the upcoming season:
Connie A. Baker: Spiritual and Religious Abuse
Connie A. Baker brings her expertise and personal experience to discuss the destructive impacts of spiritually abusive messages. These messages often erode our self-trust, leaving us vulnerable to further harm. In our conversation, we’ll explore the process of recovering from spiritual abuse and why it’s essential not to rush this journey. Connie will help us understand how survivors—especially those of us with a default setting of ‘push through’—can slow down and approach the healing process with patience. This wisdom is invaluable for true recovery, and I can’t wait for you to hear Connie’s insights.
Yasmine Mohammed: Escaping Radical Islam and Advocating for Women’s Rights
Yasmine Mohammed, a human rights activist and author of Unveiled: How Western Liberals Empower Radical Islam, joins me to share her powerful story. After escaping a forced, abusive marriage to an Al-Qaeda operative, Yasmine became an advocate for women’s rights. Through her non-profit organization, Free Hearts, Free Minds, she works tirelessly to support individuals seeking freedom from oppressive environments. Her memoir and activism offer a deeply personal and courageous perspective on overcoming adversity and empowering women. Her journey is one of survival, strength, and defiance.
Leah Denton: Therapy Harm and Power Dynamics in Mental Health
Leah Denton, the brilliant host of Psycho/Therapy podcast, will bring her deep insights into the harm that can occur within the therapeutic space and pastoral counseling. Leah, a survivor of therapy harm herself, shines a light on the ethical and systemic flaws within the mental health industry. She amplifies the voices of those who’ve been silenced and challenges us to rethink the power dynamics that can influence our healing. Leah’s work is a powerful call to action for better, more ethical care in therapy and beyond.
The Wellbeing Doctors: Body Image and Social Media’s Impact on Mental Health
Dr. Hannah Jarman and Ms. Claudia Liu, the dynamic team behind The Wellbeing Doctors, will discuss the intersection of body image, disordered eating, and the profound impact that social media has on our mental health. In their research, they’ve uncovered how active engagement with peers on social media can immediately reduce body image satisfaction, particularly for women. Together, we’ll explore how we need to redefine both beauty and health in ways that promote our true well-being, beyond appearances.
Wellness with Jaqui: The Real Story Behind Nutrition Research
Jaqui is back to break down the often-confusing world of nutrition research. If you’ve ever been baffled by conflicting diet headlines, this episode is for you. Jaqui will help us understand why nutrition research can be so complex, and how ‘statistical significance’ might not always mean what we think it does. This episode will bring clarity to the world of nutrition science and challenge the headlines we often see.
Franklin O’Kanu: Bridging Science, Spirituality, and Practical Wisdom
Franklin O’Kanu, also known as The Alchemik Pharmacist, is the founder of Unorthodoxy, a Substack that explores the spiritual dimensions of modern life through a holistic lens. With a Doctorate in Pharmacy and a background that bridges Pentecostal Christianity, Eastern philosophies, quantum physics, and Jungian psychology, Franklin offers a truly unique perspective. We’ll dive into his journey—from challenging conventional views during the pandemic to crafting a plan rooted in spiritual and natural principles. Franklin’s exploration of science, spirituality, and practical wisdom is sure to offer deep insights and foster a deeper understanding of the world around us.
This season is going to be a wild ride, full of wisdom, courage, and deep dives into essential topics that will challenge and inspire you. Don’t miss out on the launch of Taste of Truth Tuesdays Season 3 on December 31st! Make sure you’re subscribed, so you never miss an episode.
For many, the term “deconstruction” has come to represent a deeply personal process of questioning inherited beliefs, especially in the context of religion. While there’s no official “deconstruction community,” it has become a popular buzzword online, flourishing in spaces like Instagram, TikTok, and podcasts. (The New Evangelicals,Dr. Pete Enns (The Bible for Normal People), Eve was framed,Jesus Unfollower, Dr. Laura Anderson just to name a few.) These platforms provide room to question everything and dismantle rigid systems of belief—at least in theory.
But what happens when these communities become echo chambers of their own? Instead of fostering true intellectual freedom, the deconstruction movement often serves as a pipeline into new forms of dogma. Rather than encouraging critical thinking, it frequently replicates the same tribalism and groupthink that so many participants are trying to escape.
This is not growth. It’s trading one set of chains for another.
From Evangelicalism to Progressive Extremism
It’s ironic: people leave far-right evangelical Christianity believing they’ve found freedom, only to stumble into another extreme—progressive leftist ideologies. Why does this happen?
To understand this, we need to step back and look at human nature. Political scientists have found that public opinion is shaped far more by group identity than by self-interest. As Jonathan Haidt explains in The Righteous Mind, politics is deeply tribal. We’re hardwired to align with groups, not necessarily because they offer truth, but because they provide belonging.
This tribal impulse is magnified in the context of deconstruction. Many who leave evangelical Christianity are grappling with disillusionment, loss, and a hunger for community. For some, the progressive left offers a sense of safety and a clear moral framework, mirroring what they once found in their faith. The partisan brain, already trained to see the world in “us versus them” terms, naturally clings to another tribe rather than embracing the discomfort of uncertainty.
Research even suggests that extreme partisanship may be addictive. Our brains are rewarded for performing the mental gymnastics that protect us from beliefs we don’t want to confront. This dynamic—coupled with the fear of being ostracized by a new community—creates an environment where dissenting voices are silenced, and ideological purity becomes the new gospel.
Woke Ideology as a Secular Faith: A Closer Look
John McWhorter argues that wokeism functions like a full-fledged religion. It provides a moral framework that mirrors traditional religious beliefs. Instead of concepts like original sin, wokeism offers “privilege,” positioning those with it as morally compromised. In place of rituals like prayer, adherents perform acts like confessing their biases. And, similar to the salvation promised in traditional religions, salvation in wokeism comes through activism and striving for societal change. For McWhorter, this structure offers a sense of moral clarity and purpose, but the movement’s refusal to tolerate dissent makes it dangerous. He suggests, “What we’re seeing isn’t a quest for justice but a demand for unquestioning orthodoxy.”
Keep your eyes 👀out for that blog post, for it will be coming soon, and it will be called “Oh Woke night, The Sacred Beliefs of the Left”
Fragility and the “Three Great Untruths”
The allure of the deconstruction space isn’t just about leaving religion; it’s about embracing a new narrative. But narratives, like dogmas, can distort reality when they’re based on false premises. Greg Lukianoff and Jonathan Haidt explore this in their book The Coddling of the American Mind, identifying three “Great Untruths” that have come to dominate cultural discourse:
“What doesn’t kill you makes you weaker.”
“Always trust your feelings.”
“Life is a battle between good people and evil people.”
These untruths encourage fragility, discourage critical thinking, and foster an “us versus them” mentality. They create a world where discomfort is seen as harmful, emotions override evidence, and disagreement is equated with moral failure.
Sound familiar? For anyone who grew up in evangelical circles, these patterns mirror the same rigidity and moral absolutism they left behind. And yet, these same traits are now pervasive in parts of the deconstruction space. This creates an ironic cycle: people flee one form of oppression, only to adopt another, packaged in new language but rooted in the same fear-based thinking.
One of the most seductive ideas in the deconstruction movement is the belief in reason as the ultimate guide to truth. On the surface, this sounds like an antidote to dogma. But here’s the catch: reason isn’t the unbiased tool we like to imagine.
French cognitive scientists Hugo Mercier and Dan Sperber argue that reasoning didn’t evolve to help us discover truth. Instead, it evolved for argumentation—to persuade others and protect our own beliefs. This explains why confirmation bias isn’t just a quirk of human psychology; it’s a feature of our argumentative minds.
As individuals, we’re not wired to produce open-minded, truth-seeking reasoning—especially when our identity or reputation is on the line. This is why intellectual and ideological diversity is so important in any truth-seeking community. Without it, reasoning becomes a tool for reinforcing tribal loyalty, not uncovering deeper truths.
The philosopher John Stuart Mill captured this in On Liberty, arguing that free speech and open debate are essential for discovering truth. Mill believed that truth isn’t static or simple; it emerges when differing perspectives clash, forcing ideas to be tested, refined, and strengthened. Worshiping reason as an infallible guide is, in itself, a kind of faith—one as flawed and potentially dangerous as religious dogmatism.
The Rise of the Fake Intellectual
2020 and the pandemic didn’t just disrupt our lives; it disrupted how we think about authority and expertise. Franklin O’Kanu, in his Substack UNORTHODOXY, describes the emergence of a new archetype: the “fake intellectual.”
These individuals position themselves as ultimate authorities, wielding data and studies to validate their perspectives. But often, their arguments lack intellectual rigor. They cherry-pick evidence, appeal to emotion, and create the illusion of expertise without true depth.
In the realm of public health and pharmaceuticals, there’s a well-documented phenomenon known as the “revolving door” between regulatory agencies and the pharmaceutical industry. This term refers to the cyclical movement of personnel between roles as regulators or policymakers and positions within the industries they oversee.
What Is the Revolving Door?
The revolving door concept highlights a pattern where high-ranking officials from organizations such as the CDC (Centers for Disease Control and Prevention) and the FDA (Food and Drug Administration) transition into influential roles within pharmaceutical companies, and vice versa. This fluid movement raises critical questions about the integrity and impartiality of regulatory oversight.
The deconstruction space is fertile ground for this phenomenon. Disillusioned individuals, hungry for guidance, are particularly vulnerable to voices that seem authoritative. But the rise of fake intellectuals doesn’t just mislead; it stifles genuine curiosity and critical thinking, replacing one form of blind faith with another.
A Call for Intellectual Diversity
If the goal of deconstruction is freedom, then it must embrace intellectual diversity. True growth happens when we allow our ideas to be challenged—when we resist the urge to label dissenters as enemies and instead engage with them in good faith.
This is why Mill’s defense of free speech is more important than ever. Truth isn’t found in the safety of ideological purity; it’s forged in the discomfort of debate. Communities that discourage dissent are not liberating—they’re suffocating.
Conclusion: Toward True Freedom
Deconstruction should be a crossroads, not a pipeline. It’s an opportunity to question everything—including the ideologies we’re tempted to adopt in place of the ones we’ve left behind.
To truly grow, we must embrace complexity, engage with opposing perspectives, and remain humble in the face of our own limitations. The path to freedom isn’t about finding the “right” tribe—it’s about stepping beyond tribes altogether and seeking truth with courage, curiosity, and an open mind.
Thanksgiving marks a season of reflection, yet gratitude isn’t always easy to come by—especially after an election year, when cognitive overload and societal stress dominate our attention. This isn’t just a personal struggle; neuroscience suggests our brains are wired to focus on negativity, a phenomenon called negativity bias. This tendency, coupled with cultural norms emphasizing individual success and the relentless comparisons driven by social media, makes practicing gratitude a skill we must consciously develop.
In my work as a coach and host of Taste of Truth Tuesdays, I often explore how habits—like fitness, nutrition, or mindfulness—shape not just our bodies, but our minds. Gratitude operates the same way: it’s not a passive feeling, but an active practice. According to Dr. Monica Johnson, gratitude has the power to rewire your brain, reducing stress and boosting resilience. Here’s why it can be so hard—and how you can overcome those challenges.
Why Gratitude Feels So Hard
1. Negativity Bias
Our brains are wired to prioritize threats and negative experiences over positive ones. This evolutionary survival mechanism can make it harder to notice or appreciate the good in our lives.
2. High Expectations and Comparisons
Social media amplifies the pressure to compare our lives to others, often creating unrealistic standards. When our focus shifts to what we lack, gratitude takes a backseat.
3. Cognitive Overload and Stress
Life moves fast, and our schedules are packed. Reflecting on what we’re thankful for requires slowing down—a luxury stress and busyness don’t easily allow.
4. Cultural and Social Conditioning
In cultures that prize personal achievement and material success, gratitude can feel secondary. Celebrating milestones and accomplishments may overshadow smaller, everyday joys.
5. Mental Health Challenges
Depression, anxiety, and trauma can make it difficult to recognize and appreciate the positives in life. These conditions often shift focus to worries, fears, or a sense of helplessness.
6. Entitlement Mindset
When we feel entitled to certain comforts or successes, it diminishes our ability to see them as gifts, fostering dissatisfaction instead of gratitude.
7. Lack of Practice
Gratitude is a skill, not just an attitude. Without consistent effort, it’s easy for this muscle to weaken.
The Science of Gratitude: Three Proven Strategies
Fortunately, research provides powerful tools to strengthen gratitude. These practices are straightforward, effective, and supported by science.
1. Gratitude Journaling
One of the simplest and most effective methods is keeping a gratitude journal. Regularly writing down three to five things you’re thankful for has been shown to boost emotional well-being and reduce stress.
As a gardener and homesteader, I’ve found parallels here: journaling is like planting seeds of positivity. With time, those seeds grow into a garden of resilience and contentment.
Why it works:
A study by Dr. Robert Emmons, a leading researcher on gratitude, found that journaling helps rewire the brain by reinforcing positive experiences. This practice shifts focus away from what’s missing in your life toward what’s already there.
How to do it:
Spend five minutes each evening listing specific things you’re grateful for.
Be detailed—rather than “I’m grateful for my family,” write, “I’m grateful for the family dinner we had tonight where everyone laughed together.”
2. Gratitude Letters or Visits
Writing a heartfelt letter to someone who has positively impacted your life is another effective practice. Even better? Deliver the letter in person or send it to them.
Why it works:
Research highlighted by Dr. Monica Johnson of The Savvy Psychologist shows that thanking someone you’ve never properly appreciated increases happiness immediately and for up to a month afterward. The act deepens relationships and reinforces a sense of connection.
How to do it:
Reflect on someone who has helped or supported you in a meaningful way.
Write a sincere letter describing what they did and why it mattered.
Deliver it, either in person, through a video call, or via mail.
For me, this practice reminds me of the people who’ve supported my journey—from launching my podcast to building a small homestead.
3. Mental Subtraction of Positive Events
Instead of focusing on what you’re grateful for, imagine your life without certain positive aspects. This “mental subtraction” technique can powerfully enhance your appreciation for what you have.
Why it works:
A study published in the Journal of Positive Psychology revealed that imagining life without key blessings intensifies gratitude by showing how much worse life could be. This perspective shift cultivates appreciation even for things we take for granted.
How to do it:
Think about a cherished relationship, opportunity, or moment in your life.
Reflect on how your life would be without it.
Let this realization deepen your gratitude for that aspect of your life.
I often reflect on what life would be like without the small joys I’ve cultivated—like watching our garden grow or exploring life with my 3 dogs. It’s a powerful way to deepen appreciation for the present.
Gratitude is a Skill Worth Building
Gratitude might not come naturally, but with consistent practice, it can become a cornerstone of emotional resilience and happiness. By journaling, expressing thanks to others, and practicing mental subtraction, you can train your brain to focus on the good—even amidst life’s challenges.
Gratitude isn’t just a feel-good emotion—it’s a powerful mental tool that rewires your brain for better health and happiness. Through neuroplasticity, gratitude practices such as journaling or simply expressing thanks, strengthen neural pathways linked to positive emotions and weaken those associated with stress or negativity. This results in reduced anxiety, lower cortisol (the stress hormone), and improved mood
But the benefits don’t stop at mental health. Gratitude is also linked to better heart health, stronger immune function, and improved sleep quality. By calming the nervous system, gratitude promotes relaxation and a sense of well-being. Plus, it enhances emotional intelligence, fostering empathy, compassion, and stronger social connections
As Dr. Monica Johnson reminds us, gratitude is like a muscle: it grows stronger the more you use it. This Thanksgiving, and in the year ahead, let’s commit to cultivating gratitude as a daily habit. The rewards—a brighter perspective, deeper connections, and greater joy—are well worth the effort.
Gratitude isn’t about ignoring pain or hardship—it’s about recognizing the value in the journey. Whether you’re navigating personal struggles, cultural pressures, or simply a stressful holiday season, gratitude offers a way to stay curious, grounded, and resilient.
For more information on the 365 Easy Challenge for 2025, click here!
Which gratitude strategy will you try first? Let me know in the comments!
For a deeper exploration of the science of gratitude, you can check out these insightful resources:
Books:
The Gratitude Diaries by Janice Kaplan – This book blends personal storytelling with scientific research on the power of gratitude in transforming daily life.
Thanks! How the New Science of Gratitude Can Make You Happier by Robert Emmons – Emmons, one of the leading researchers in the field, explores the science behind gratitude and how practicing it can improve physical and mental health.
The Happiness Advantage by Shawn Achor – Achor discusses how happiness, including gratitude, can lead to success in work and life by creating a positive mindset.
Studies and Articles:
Gratitude and Well-being (Greater Good Science Center) – A collection of studies demonstrating that gratitude can improve overall well-being, reduce stress, and enhance relationshipsGreater Good.
A study published in Psychology of Well-Being found that practicing gratitude regularly can help reduce negative emotions and promote a greater sense of life satisfactionGreater Good.
TED Talks:
“The Power of Vulnerability” by Brené Brown – Brown explores how embracing vulnerability, along with gratitude, leads to a deeper connection with others and personal well-being.
“What’s So Funny About Gratitude?” by Robyn Stratton-Berkessel – In this talk, Stratton-Berkessel discusses the profound impact that asking about positive experiences can have on fostering gratitude in everyday life PositivePsychology.com.
“The Secret to Happiness is Helping Others” by Mike Robbins – Robbins highlights how gratitude, especially when expressed towards others, can create a ripple effect of kindness and well-beingPositivePsychology.com.
These resources provide a rich blend of personal, scientific, and practical perspectives on how gratitude can enhance our lives.
Bonus Episode: Reflections on the Election Cycle – A Message for the Deconstruction Community
Welcome to today’s deep dive into a topic that’s been stirring within me for months. If you’re new here, let me explain the deconstruction space, or the deconstruction community—a movement that’s gaining momentum for those of us disentangling ourselves from rigid, fundamentalist beliefs. This process is supposed to be healing and, ideally, a source of growth, but it’s not without its share of controversy. That’s what we’re here to talk about.
In my podcast episode titled Faith Unbound: Navigating the Process of Disentanglement—or rather, Deconversion after my own journey took a deeper turn—I discussed my initial discovery of this space back in February. At that point, I’d begun to question my former beliefs, and the deconstruction community felt like a safe haven. After 6-7 months in, I’m seeing patterns that are unsettlingly familiar. The community has been valuable, yet I’ve grown concerned as it increasingly mirrors the same kinds of rigidity and tribalism many of us were trying to escape.
My posts and Instagram reels have hinted at this frustration, but I’m here today to pull these thoughts together more fully. Moving away from one dogma only to embrace another feels to me, like a new form of entrapment. The craving for certainty and “the right side” is strong, and without realizing it, we’re swapping one rigid system for another. In this space that’s supposed to champion open-mindedness, judgment and exclusion seem to have replaced curiosity and true critical thought.
It’s a reminder that true growth and change happen only when we’re open to different perspectives—not quick to label those who disagree with us as enemies. As the philosopher John Stuart Mill argued in his 1859 work, On Liberty, Free speech is essential for discovering the truth. He believed true understanding and truth itself emerge only through open debate and free expression. This highlights the complexity of truth, it’s only when differing perspectives clash that ideas are refined and strengthened. Let’s explore how that idea relates to today’s topic.
Setting the Stage: The Political and Psychological Landscape
Before we dig into the deconstruction community, let’s set the stage with something I found really interesting. Back before the 2024 election, journalist Mark Halperin expressed some serious concerns on Tucker Carlson’s podcast (cue the BOOs and HISSS from all the progressives–I hear you!) about what would happen if Trump were to win a second term. He predicted widespread psychological distress, especially among Democrats, which would affect everything from mental health to social interactions. And, wow, did that hit the mark.
Since Trump’s victory, movements like the 4B movement have surged among women on social media, particularly in response to reproductive rights concerns and conservative gender roles. Originating in South Korea, the movement’s name, “4B,” stems from “B,” shorthand for “no” in Korean, symbolizing “No sex, No dating, No marrying men, and No children.” Recently, the movement has sparked a 450% increase in Google searches in the U.S., with many calling it the “4 Nos” or referencing “Lysistrata” for its radical stance against traditional gender expectations. I’ve shared my thoughts on traditional gender expectations in a previous episode.
The Blue Bracelet Movement: Solidarity or Performative Gesture?
Following the 2024 election, white women supporting Kamala Harris have rallied around an unexpected symbol: a blue bracelet. For many, it represents allegiance, a small but visible way to signal “I’m not with them” to women who voted for Trump. But like other quick-fix political symbols, it’s raising questions: Does this bracelet truly contribute to progress, or is it merely performative—a way to sidestep deeper, tougher conversations within their communities?
The trend echoes past symbolic movements like 2017’s “pussy hats,” which aimed to unify and empower but were later criticized for their lack of sustained action. Today, similar critiques have emerged around the bracelet, with critics suggesting it’s more of a comforting gesture for its wearers than a true commitment to change. Some Black activists and allies have pointed out that symbols alone aren’t enough; they want allies willing to challenge and change the beliefs of those around them, including friends and family who may hold differing views.
Could the Blue Bracelet Movement become a lasting emblem of allyship or fade as a passing trend? Its fate rests on whether those wearing it step up to engage in hard conversations and meaningful action.
Misinformation and Its Impact on Abortion Laws
But let’s get back to deconstruction—and something that’s been coming up a lot lately, particularly within that space: misinformation about abortion laws. Here’s the thing: there is no federal abortion ban in place. I repeat, NO federal abortion ban.
The Trump administration’s role in the overturning of Roe v. Wade has sparked fierce debates on both sides, but it’s important to clarify that the administration never stated it aimed to eliminate abortion nationwide. Instead, the ruling simply returned the power to regulate abortion to individual states. Some conservative figures have even used quotes from Ruth Bader Ginsburg to suggest she supported a more gradual, state-based approach. However, Ginsburg critiqued the federal approach, arguing a more state-focused shift could have garnered broader public support for gender equality. Polls consistently show that while many Americans support the legality of abortion, most also favor restrictions—especially in later stages of pregnancy. This nuance, however, often gets lost in campaign rhetoric, which is typically framed in absolute terms to galvanize voter turnout. But as we’ve seen, such messaging has not always yielded the intended results, revealing the complexity of public opinion on this issue.
Yes, the Roe v. Wade decision was overturned, but all that did was give states the power to regulate abortion. Some states have restrictions, sure, but no federal law is imposing a nationwide ban. And without a massive shift in Congress and the courts, it’s unlikely that will happen.
I don’t think it will. Trump himself has spoken out against that. His wife has spoken for protecting these in some way, shape or form. We have other folks coming over from the Democratic Party under this Unity Party bracket. I just don’t think that they’re going to force Christian nationalism, and abortion bans across the entire nation. I guess we’ll see.
Then, there’s this idea going around that women won’t be able to access life-saving procedures if they have a miscarriage. This is just false. In fact, most states with abortion restrictions still allow medical treatments for miscarriages, like dilation and curettage (D&C), which are essential to protect a woman’s health. What’s actually being restricted are elective abortions—not necessary procedures.
But here’s where things get really tricky. The spread of these exaggerated claims taps into the emotional centers of our brains. If you remember our previous episodes, we talked about amygdala hijacking—the brain’s response to fear and anxiety. When we hear these alarmist claims, it triggers that fear-based reaction, shutting down our ability to think rationally. Instead of focusing on the facts, we’re just reacting emotionally.
The Dangers of Misinformation
Let’s talk about the danger of this. Misinformation, especially when it involves highly emotional issues like reproductive rights, isn’t just harmless chatter—it’s psychological warfare. It keeps people in a constant state of anxiety, preventing them from thinking rationally. The real issue? People are more likely to believe in the fear-based narrative than to actually check the facts. They’re too busy being triggered emotionally.
This plays directly into the hands of the fearmongers. It becomes easier to control a population if you can make them afraid, right? And what do we see happening? Misguided campaigns around “miscarriage care,” the spread of exaggerated stories, and people feeling like their rights are under direct attack. It’s chaos. And it’s all based on misinformation, yet the ones who are screaming the loudest about misinformation are the very ones spreading it.
Can you already hear the echoes of evangelicalism? This brings me to the concepts of Jonathan Haidt’s the Righteous Mind: Why Good People Are Divided by Politics and Religion because they apply here. Haidt explains how our moral intuitions drive our beliefs and politics, often dividing us along different moral foundations.
Many folks in the deconstruction space, now lean left, where values like care and fairness are paramount. Meanwhile, conservative values like loyalty and authority are often viewed as suspect, fostering an “us vs. them” mentality that can feel righteous but alienating. Ironically, in striving for freedom and empathy, the deconstruction space sometimes ends up falling into the same black-and-white thinking it critiques.
In tandem, Greg Lukianoff and Jonathan Haidt’s book The Coddling of the American Mind offers a useful framework for understanding these shifts, identifying “Three Great Untruths”: 1) “What doesn’t kill you makes you weaker,” 2) “Always trust your feelings,” and 3) “Life is a battle between good people and evil people.” These untruths, they argue, create fragility, discourage critical thinking, and foster a tribal mentality—traits that increasingly characterize the deconstruction space and parts of the progressive left.
It’s ironic to me that some people leave evangelical Christianity thinking they’re free, only to stumble into a new form of dogma within the deconstruction space. My experience is different—I didn’t grow up in the church but was recruited during the pandemic. Having lived outside of purity culture, I feel fortunate not to carry that baggage. While I empathize with those navigating their journeys, it’s tough to see them act as critics and bullies. Let’s unpack these dynamics by exploring three key untruths in this space.
1. The Untruth of Fragility: “What doesn’t kill you makes you weaker.”
For many, deconstructing from fundamentalist beliefs took resilience and a willingness to confront discomfort. Yet, in today’s deconstruction space, there’s an emphasis on avoiding ideas seen as “unsafe” or “harmful”—typically anything that deviates from progressive orthodoxy. and I mean, I genuinely felt this way. I think that might be somewhat of a trauma response. I was like, I hate the patriarchy. I must stand up against this. This is harmful. This is dangerous. And there is a lot of data proving that this isn’t true, whether we want to look at the history of the ancient church or just, you know, the research data that I’ve shared in previous episodes but my point–this fragility, reinforced by social media algorithms, cultivates an environment where disagreement feels threatening rather than enriching.
This approach mirrors the fundamentalist rejection of “dangerous” secular ideas, where dissent is demonized. The irony is that what began as a call for open-mindedness has become a kind of brittle certitude, one that isolates rather than connects. Instead of learning resilience, we’re re-teaching fragility, limiting our growth and deepening the ideological chasm.
Protestors outside a Temple of Satan
2. The Untruth of Emotional Reasoning: “Always trust your feelings.”
Fundamentalism often equates strong feelings with truth—“If I feel it, it must be right.” In the deconstruction space, there’s a similar emphasis on emotional reasoning. If something feels offensive or unsettling, it’s treated as harmful. This approach is amplified by social media, where outrage and personal offense are rewarded with visibility.
Haidt’s work reminds us that emotions shape our moral judgments but don’t always lead to truth. Reacting purely on feeling closes off critical thinking, creating echo chambers where alternative perspectives are rarely considered. Instead of fostering deeper understanding, emotional reasoning entrenches our biases, fueling judgment rather than curiosity.
3. The Untruth of Us vs. Them: “Life is a battle between good people and evil people.”
The most divisive untruth is the idea that the world can be split into “good” and “evil” camps. This is evident in how some in the deconstruction community approach politics and social issues, painting conservatives or moderates as morally inferior. We see a rigid, “with us or against us” mentality, where anyone who questions progressive narratives is labeled “deplorable,” “harmful,” “Trash”, “Nazi” or worse.
Haidt’s research reveals that moral division is natural; we all tend to view those who disagree with us as misguided or even morally flawed. But when we approach every difference as a moral battleground, we close off true dialogue. Coming from a high-Calvinist church—one of the most cult-like, fundamentalist circles you can get into—I know what it’s like to think the rapture is imminent or to believe that if you don’t say all the “right” words exactly, you’ll burn in hell. My journey has taken me from being pro-choice in Portland, OR, having had three abortions myself, to joining an abolitionist movement to outlaw abortion. I haven’t even spoken about the profound pain and regret I carry about this. Yet here I am, reflecting on how divisive our society has become, with so little room for understanding across political lines. In the deconstruction space, you’d expect a shared empathy after leaving behind rigid belief systems, but instead, the culture seems to mirror the very exclusivity and “us vs. them” mentality of evangelical spaces.
Living in Portland, surrounded by ideologies that often pushed the limits of what I felt was morally comfortable, I wrestled with the impacts of various movements. I started to question whether certain messages of empowerment—like third-wave feminism—truly uplift or, instead, encourage behaviors that commodify women’s bodies and promote sexualization from a very young age. And while sex work has become a celebrated concept under the mantra “sex work is real work,” my own painful experiences in that industry make me see things differently. To me, it’s not empowering; it’s the opposite. Instead of championing it, I believe we should work to dismantle the industry.
It’s not just isolated concepts; there’s a broader pattern of glorifying “anything goes” hedonism and dismissing traditional values in the progressive space, which I find deeply troubling. Living in that environment left me with a raw understanding of how damaging these ideologies can be, leaving permanent scars. I grieve over the three abortions I’ve had. I cry because, despite being told it was just “a clump of cells,” I knew it was more than that. Watching the left demand “trust the science” while denying that life begins at conception feels twisted to me.
Moreover, there’s a deep, dark history in the advocacy of reproductive rights that gets glossed over—like the disturbing eugenics past of Planned Parenthood’s Margaret Sanger. Are we just going to ignore that?
Since the last election ended with a Trump landslide victory, rather than sparking any self-reflection, this moral absolutism seems to have intensified. The comments sections on many deconstruction accounts reveal the same tribal thinking they claim to oppose. Instead of creating bridges, we see entrenched sides, instead of open-mindedness, we see judgment.
Look, I’ve been there. I was a proud Democrat in the past. I voted for Obama. But now, as an independent, I’m calling it like I see it. Democrats need to take a good hard look at themselves if they want a chance at victory. Blaming the electorate isn’t the answer. You cannot keep denying biology and pretending men. Along in women’s sports, restrooms or prisons. The idea that kids should undergo irreversible changes. It’s misguided and is absolutely out of touch. The open border agenda. It’s hurting American workers, pushing down wages and driving up the cost of housing. When will you start protecting your own people instead of pandering to these extreme policies? Discriminating against whites, Asians and men and the name of countering past wrongs is not only setting us back, but it’s racist in itself. Abandoning merit-based selection is wrecking our economy and opportunities for everyone. I mean, you cannot let people camp, defecate and shoot up in public spaces and expect things to improve. The average voter is seeing all of this and they’re rejecting it. If Democrats want to win again, they need to rethink their approach and get back to reality. Enough is enough.
The Pipeline Problem: How Social Media Radicalizes
This divide is worsened by social media, where algorithms favor outrage and tribalism, pulling people toward extreme ideologies. Just as researchers have observed a “crunchy hippie to alt-right pipeline,” there’s a similar dynamic at play in progressive spaces, where folks in the deconstruction space are drawn into radical social justice ideologies that feel every bit as dogmatic as evangelicalism.
In this progressive pipeline, identity politics becomes a weapon, and moral purity is enforced through a power/victim binary that discourages complexity and invites fear of being labeled an oppressor. This kind of ideological purity resembles the control and certainty we experienced in evangelicalism, only now with a new political coat of paint.
And this leads me into the horseshoe theory suggests that the far-left and far-right, though seemingly at opposite ends of the spectrum, often mirror each other in attitudes and tactics. This theory, initially presented by French philosopher Jean-Pierre Faye, proposes that the extremes of any ideology may end up behaving similarly—both tending toward authoritarianism and totalitarian thought despite their stated differences. Although this theory has its critics, the broader concept of ideological mirroring holds up in our analysis of what’s happening in the deconstruction space. At first, it was all about freedom—breaking away from oppressive systems, rejecting dogma, and embracing openness. But ironically, as people deconstruct their faith, they can fall into a similar trap: from being free thinkers to members of a new ideological cult.
Basically, when you leave fundamentalism without fully deconstructing dogmatic thinking, you risk trading one rigid ideology for another. Without cultivating humility and empathy, we will perpetrate the very same cycles of judgement and exclusion.
The Path Forward: True Openness and Curiosity
What’s the solution here? Jonathan Haidt’s insights remind us that real dialogue begins by understanding the values behind other people’s beliefs, even if we disagree with them. Progress and healing require that we listen beyond the labels, engaging in good faith rather than moral grandstanding. If we are to avoid replicating the very structures we’re deconstructing, we need to make space for differing perspectives and approach them with curiosity.
So, this means you cannot demonize conservatives, you cannot call everyone that voted for Trump a bigot, racist, misogynist. There’s something wrong with that thinking. You have been sold these three untruths. It’s a tired accusation that doesn’t hold up when you look at the numbers. Trump support among white voters did drop from 57% in 2020 to 49% in 2024. But the kicker is his support among black and Latino voters actually went up from 38 to 42%. So, against all odds, Trump is doing something that the Democratic Party has failed to do for decades. He’s making the Republican Party more diverse than has been in 60 years. Let’s cut out the divisive name calling and start acknowledging the reality of his growing appeal across different communities.
Real change happens when we go beyond just labeling others and instead build spaces where critical thought can flourish—even when it’s uncomfortable. This is my message to the deconstruction community and beyond!
It’s simple: stop pretending that we have all the answers. True freedom of thought is not about certainty. It’s about curiosity. It’s about asking the tough questions, not just parroting whatever’s trendy on social media or echoing the louder voices in your ideological group.
We need to do away with the binary thinking that divides us into “good” or “evil,” “us” or “them,” and start embracing true diversity of thought. Only by having those uncomfortable, nuanced conversations will we ever break free from the ideological cults—whether they’re rooted in religion, politics, or even deconstruction itself.
So, as we wrap up today’s episode, remember this: It’s time to get real. Misinformation is everywhere, and sometimes, it’s coming from the very people who claim to be fighting it. Whether it’s the left, the right, or the deconstruction space—don’t get caught up in the hype.
Thanks for tuning in to Taste of Truth Tuesdays. Until next time, keep questioning, keep learning, and never, ever stop thinking for yourself.
As we move past the recent election, I’ve been reflecting on what it’s taught me about our culture, politics, and the conversations we have about faith and values. I want to share this reflection, not as a definitive answer, but as a personal journey that might resonate with others.
Discovering the “Deconstruction” Community
When I first started questioning my beliefs, especially within Christianity, I found myself among a group of people known as the “deconstruction community.” Many of these individuals were dealing with anger and disillusionment—much of it directed at political figures like Trump, the MAGA movement, and the perceived traditional values upheld by many evangelicals. They spoke openly about issues like spiritual abuse and cult-like dynamics in religious spaces, which resonated with me as I navigated my own experiences of questioning and stepping away from past beliefs.
But as I spent more time in these spaces, I noticed a paradox. The community had an “us vs. them” mentality that was very similar to the kind they were critiquing within conservative Christianity. The language, often harsh and divisive, didn’t align with the openness and curiosity I’d hoped to find. It seemed that some had merely replaced one set of rigid beliefs with another, creating a new kind of fundamentalism in the process.
Moving Beyond Anger and Righteousness
In these circles, I encountered scholars and advocates who passionately spoke against certain ideologies—sometimes with a level of certainty that left little room for nuance. I can empathize with this; when I began deconstructing, I, too, was filled with anger. I often felt morally superior, eager to “call out” harmful ideologies. But as time passed, I began to see that this anger, while understandable, could also be limiting. It kept me in a space where I saw the world in black and white, where there were “good” people on one side and “bad” on the other. I realized that this wasn’t a mindset I wanted to live in forever.
The Value of Autonomy and Discernment
During this election cycle, I found myself reflecting on the importance of autonomy, critical thinking, and discernment. These are qualities that the deconstruction community often claims to uphold. Yet, at times, it feels as though a different kind of fundamentalism has taken root—one where there’s pressure to align with a specific, “acceptable” narrative. I believe we need to make space for people to question, to think deeply, and to weigh their values without the fear of being shamed or silenced.
For instance, while I see harm in patriarchal structures, I also believe it’s damaging to label every conservative viewpoint as “fascist” or “racist.” These labels are extreme and can create walls instead of bridges. This is especially concerning when public figures or communities use this language to fuel fear rather than to inspire honest dialogue. It’s a reminder of how easy it is to fall into binary thinking, even when we’re trying to escape it.
Real-World Impact of Ideas
The power of ideas, especially those circulated in liberal spaces, has had a tangible impact on my life. Phrases like “sex work is real work” and “it’s just a clump of cells” influenced me in ways that I now wish had been more nuanced. I deeply regret some choices and wish I’d had more support, better information, and a broader perspective at the time. This experience fuels my passion for helping others get a fuller picture as they make decisions, especially those that impact their health, values, and future.
The Importance of Diverse Voices
As I look forward, my hope is to help foster a healthier America where diverse voices and perspectives can coexist. This includes voices that don’t necessarily align with mainstream narratives. Figures like Robert Kennedy Jr., for example, are often labeled “conspiracy theorists” within certain circles, including parts of the deconstruction community. But Kennedy has a message that challenges corporate narratives, and I find it disheartening when people dismiss him without truly engaging with his ideas. This tendency to label and dismiss is something I hope we can move beyond.
Building Dialogue Over Division
In closing, my commitment is to create a space where the priority is truth-seeking, not winning. It’s easy to fall into the trap of quick judgments and polarizing narratives, but real growth comes from dialogue, from listening, and from respecting the humanity in one another—even when we disagree. The recent election has reminded me of the importance of these values.
Let’s keep questioning the narratives, seeking understanding, and holding space for multiple perspectives. After all, this isn’t about “winning” or “losing”—it’s about building a more compassionate, informed society.
Thank you for reading, and let’s keep this conversation going. Let’s choose curiosity over condemnation, dialogue over division, and remember there’s always more to the story.
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