I didn’t wake up one day believing the opposite of everything I once did. There was no sudden switch, no dramatic moment of clarity. What changed happened slowly, almost quietly.
At first, my political views weren’t really mine. I repeated what I heard, what felt safe to say, what helped me fit in. Certainty felt comforting, even when it wasn’t questioned. I thought having strong opinions meant having the right ones.
Then life complicated things. I met people whose stories didn’t match the arguments I defended. I listened to experiences that couldn’t be reduced to slogans. The more I learned, the less simple everything became and that discomfort forced me to think instead of reacting.
My evolution wasn’t about picking a new side. It was about learning to sit with nuance. To admit when I was wrong. To care less about sounding informed and more about being understanding.
Now, my politics are shaped by empathy as much as logic. I hold my beliefs with more humility, knowing they may continue to change.
My politics didn’t flip.
They evolved.










