Navigating Relationships With Those Who Voted for Harm

The text arrives: "Coming home for Thanksgiving?" Or maybe it's an invitation to a family wedding. Perhaps it's just another Sunday dinner. Whatever the occasion, your stomach immediately tightens. These once-simple social gatherings have become complex emotional labyrinths to navigate. Why? Because someone you love—maybe several someones—have aligned themselves with ideologies and politicians that actively harm people you or people you care about.

This isn't about mere policy disagreements or differing views on tax policy. We're talking about people who have thrown their support behind violent Christian nationalism, sexism, and anti-democratic authoritarianism. When someone votes for Trump, they're voicing support for policies that materially harm people we know and love, whether they admit that or not.

How do you engage with someone who doesn't share your basic views on human dignity? Who supports putting immigrants in detention camps, denying healthcare to trans folks and women, or perpetuating systems that deny safety and humanity to Black people?

It's easy to fall into what psychologists call "splitting," seeing our options as an either/or binary. Either we maintain relationships exactly as they are, pretending everything is fine, or we cut off all contact completely. But there's a whole spectrum of possibilities between "fake normalcy" and "total estrangement."

Understanding Our Bodies' Response

According to trauma researcher Dr. Bessel van der Kolk, our bodies keep score of emotional wounds just as much as physical ones. When we encounter someone who supports harmful ideologies, our nervous system often responds as if to a physical threat. That racing heart, tight stomach, or sudden exhaustion? That's your body remembering and protecting you.

This physiological response isn't just about the present moment. It often connects to deeper attachment wounds. When a parent supports policies that would harm your friends—or perhaps you directly—it can trigger early childhood experiences of feeling unsafe or unseen. As van der Kolk notes, "The body keeps the score, and it always wins."

Learning from Jesus' Boundaries

Jesus—despite being portrayed as endlessly patient and available—actually modeled sophisticated boundary-setting:

• When his hometown crowd tried to throw him off a cliff, he didn't stand there arguing his case. He slipped away to safety (Luke 4:29-30).
• When his family showed up claiming he was crazy, he didn't feel obligated to engage. He simply continued his work (Mark 3:21-35).
• He even employed strategic deception when necessary, telling his brothers he wasn't going to Jerusalem for a festival, then going secretly to avoid those who wanted to harm him (John 7:8-10).
• When religious leaders tried to trap him in debate, he often refused to accept their premises or responded with his own questions. Sometimes he simply walked away (Mark 12:13-17).

Jesus shows us that protecting ourselves from harm isn't unspiritual—it's wise.

The Complexity of Family Systems

Bowen's family systems theory helps explain why these situations feel so impossible. Every family develops its own emotional system—patterns of relating that can span generations. When someone disrupts these patterns (like refusing to "keep the peace" about harmful politics), the entire system feels threatened.

This explains why you might hear:

• "Can't you just let it go for Mom's sake?"
• "We've always been able to get along before."
• "Why do you have to make everything political?"

These aren't just individual reactions. They're the family system trying to maintain its equilibrium, even if that equilibrium protects harmful beliefs.

Examining Authority and Input

One helpful framework is to consider what level of authority or input various people have in your life:

Decision-Making Authority

Some relationships involve shared decision-making power: spouses deciding on finances, living situations, children's education, etc. If you live with parents or guardians, they likely have authority over aspects of your life. When faced with fundamental disagreements about human dignity, you may need to work toward relationships where concerning individuals can't make decisions that affect you. This isn't necessarily the same as cutting contact (although it could be). It's more about changing the power dynamic.

(This gets especially tricky in employer/employee relationships where financial survival is at stake. You deserve to eat and have shelter. Don't feel guilty about navigating that complexity.)

Link: Why It's Okay to Cut Off Toxic Family Members

Advisory Influence

Then there are people whose advice and input help shape your thinking, even if they don't have direct authority. Here's where you can be more selective. If someone's information sources and reasoning led them to support authoritarian policies and Christian nationalism, they shouldn't be your go-to for wisdom anymore. If they think mass deportation is a good idea and the January 6 attempted coup was merely a group of overexcited tourists, they aren't the best folks to get advice from. This can be painful when it involves people you previously looked up to spiritually or personally. But if their "wisdom" led them to support policies that harm the vulnerable, it's time to seek counsel elsewhere.

Ambient Influence

Finally, there are relationships that impact you simply through proximity and habit. These are often easier to step back from, without drama, but by gradually investing less energy. You're not obligated to maintain every relationship at the same intensity forever.

The Art of Self-Differentiation

Self-differentiation means maintaining a clear sense of self while staying connected to others. This requires understanding our triggers and working to heal them.

Here's a personal example: I have significant triggers around food. When my kids reject food I've prepared—even in normal kid-like ways—it hits me deeply. This comes from my childhood experience of food insecurity, where I had to prepare my own meals from a young age because my biological mother's mental illness made her incapable of doing so.

That early experience created a hyper-protectiveness around food and meals. When someone rejects food I've prepared, it feels like a deep personal insult, even though that's rarely the intent.

Similarly, you might have triggers around political discussions or family conflicts. Just talking about some issues feels threatening. Maybe someone's support for authoritarian policies reminds you of past experiences of powerlessness. Or perhaps their dismissal of others' humanity echoes ways you've been dismissed. Recognizing these triggers allows you to:

1. Set appropriate boundaries when needed
2. Step away from reactive situations
3. Focus on your own healing rather than trying to fix others
4. Engage from a more grounded place when you choose to do so

The temptation to default to either "fake normalcy" and "total estrangement" is that, in some ways, those options require—at least initially—the least energy from us. Differentiation is hard work; staying in relationships that continually drain us is exhausting. You will only be able to handle so many. Choose wisely.

As my colleague Pastor Tonetta preached this Sunday, the revolution always starts internally. And the call of the Gospel is to stay human. If you have relationships that make you feel less than human, it's okay to step away.

A core practice for me in healing from trauma or triggers is meditation and contemplative spirituality. In short, I have to be okay being in relationship with the all the internal parts of just me before I'll ever be fully able to engage in healthy relationships with others.

Grieving What's Lost

When family members embrace harmful ideologies, we often experience what therapists call "ambiguous loss," grieving someone who is still physically present but emotionally or even ideologically distant. This grief can be particularly complex because:

1. The loss isn't socially recognized like death
2. Others may minimize its impact ("It's just politics!")
3. There's ongoing hope for change that can make it hard to process
4. The loss often comes with shame or anger that complicates grieving

It's good to grieve these changes. It's good to mourn the relationship you wished you had, the safety you thought existed, the understanding you hoped for.

(Practitioner note: we're talking about type-two ambiguous loss here. This is the common sort if we see people disappear into cults, conspiracy theory groups such as QAnon, etc.).

Quality Over Quantity

Beyond the kinds of authority we grant in our relationships, we can adjust the quality of relationships. Some options:

Intentional Peacekeeping

This isn't about pretending differences don't exist. It's about setting boundaries around engagement. I once had someone start a conversation with me claiming they wanted to learn about LGBTQ+ affirming theology. I was excited to teach them out of my not-inconsiderable eight years of theological education. But they showed up with a freaking pre-printed brochure of counter-arguments from Focus on the Family. I quickly realized they weren't there to learn, but to debate. Things got heated, but I then ended the conversation and set a boundary—no discussions until they're genuinely ready to learn. They needed to do their own work on educating themselves and be ready to learn, not bait me into an argument.

Time-Limited Distance

You don't have to make permanent decisions. You can say "I need space from this relationship right now" without declaring forever-estrangement. This allows you to protect your wellbeing while leaving room for future change.

Strategic Engagement

Some of you brave folks may choose purposeful debate and discussion—but this requires significant emotional intelligence and confidence. You need to be able engage without getting pulled into unproductive anger while handling others' strong reactions to your views.

Consider Your Position

Your approach should account for intersectionality and identity. As a straight, white, cis male pastor, I'm not personally targeted by many harmful policies that the Trump administration has promised. That probably means I have more responsibility to engage with harmful ideologies since I have less to protect.

It also means that those who belong to marginalized communities may need stronger boundaries for their safety and wellbeing.

You deserve to worship in a church that wants you. You deserve a holiday meal with folks who don't question your dignity.

Moving Forward with Hope

There's no universal right answer here. These decisions involve ambiguity and personal discernment. However, we can:

1. Build support systems before setting relationship-altering boundaries
2. Practice self-differentiation rather than cutting off or enmeshing
3. Honor our grief while staying open to change
4. Learn from communities with long experience resisting harm
5. Remember that the goal isn't punishment but collective liberation

Even people who support harmful ideologies are ultimately harmed by those beliefs. While you don't have to feel sorry for them, remember that the end goal is freedom for everyone, even those currently committed to authoritarianism.

If we set boundaries in relationships, it's not out of resentment. It's so we can continue growing in health, nurturing the fruits of the Spirit, and working toward everyone's liberation, even those who currently oppose it.

This work is hard. It requires courage, wisdom, and tremendous self-compassion. But with intention and support, we can navigate these painful waters while protecting both our wellbeing and our capacity for hope.