"For what will it profit a man if he gains the whole world, and loses his own soul?" (The Gospel of Mark, Chapter 8, verse 36)

My political journey has been a very unique one. At least, I think it has. I certainly didn't think the person I am now would be the person I was just a few years ago, at least as far as my political ideology, to use a fancy word for it, is concerned.

In 2015, I registered for the first time to vote in a national election. Just before graduating high school, my vice-principal gave the seniors who were turning 18 before the 2016 presidential election the paperwork to register in time. I was beyond thrilled. For the first time ever, my vote was going to be counted to select the next leader of the United States. Not only that, I was thrilled to declare myself a Republican on paper. I would be following in the footsteps of so many family members before me who identified as the pro-life party. The party of small government. The party of the military. All those things that made someone a proud patriot. I considered myself a Republican before 2015, though I wasn't 100% sure what it all it meant to belong to a political party. I just knew what my parents had told me. Republicans were good and Democrats were bad. That was enough for me at the time. And once I filled in that little bubble next to the Republican option on the paperwork, I could not have been happier. I was now part of a legacy that dated back to the days of Abraham Lincoln and there was nothing or nobody that could make me feel bad for my choice.

Then came Donald Trump.

I laughed off his nomination at first, like there was no way it could be serious. Once I learned it was, though, I took it with a reluctant acceptance. Maybe the guy who was never a politician was just the thing the country needed, I thought. The Hollywood Access tape effectively stopped that. The very notion of a electing someone who bragged about being able to grab women by their privates with impunity made my skin crawl. His completely shameful performances in the later Republican debates only further cemented my opinion. This guy wasn't just vile. He was incompetent. Unprepared. A bully who preferred insults to discussion of policy. My disgust at times faded, but only to give way to disbelief as one by one, the other Republican challengers fell by the way-side, time and time again leaving "The Donald" grinning and gloating, like that mean little kid from your elementary school who always got away with everything. I was shocked, confused, and outright dumbstruck, each and every night, right up to the night the final votes were tallied that November. He had won and to this day, its one of the most incredible (and I use that word in the most negative context I can) occurrences I've ever seen. Despite all this, though, I clung tightly to my Republican label. Trump, horrible as he was, was just one guy. Not the complete representation of party.

These last four years have told me with agonizing clarity, though, that there were plenty of others who were all too happy to sacrifice the tenants of their party to remake it in his image, though.

Accountability was a crucial lesson that my family tried to instill in me early on. To take responsibility for my actions but to also call out others when they were in the wrong. If ever there was an administration so fundamentally lacking in that trait, it would be this one. If you can believe it, though, my slow separation from the very party I loved so much, was not totally about Donald Trump. Not his launching an investigation to prove his inauguration was bigger than Barack Obama's. Not his failed military operation that led to the death of a Navy SEAL in Yemen. Not his public announcement to his supporters to boycott Harley Davidson because they had to move jobs overseas, or even his catastrophically embarrassing response to the Charlottesville rallies and hesitation to denounce white supremacy. It was less Donald Trump and more the Republican leadership in Washington who either remained silent about his actions or actively rushed to defend them. Men like Ted Cruz. Like Jim Jordan. Mark Meadows, Lindsey Graham, and my home state Senate Majority Leader, Mitch McConnell. Trump had no problem showing his true colors, but it didn't shock me near as much as the men and women who let him behave like he does.

This was never more so blatantly evident than during the Helsinki Summit which marked the first face-to-face meeting between Donald Trump and Russian president, Vladimir Putin. The tension would be great under normal circumstances. That it would be taking place following the news that Russian agents had actively interfered in the presidential election, which had been confirmed by multiple U.S. intelligence agencies and the Senate Intelligence Committee, and during the active investigation by former FBI Director, Robert Mueller to see if Donald Trump had aided in that interference, however, made the meeting even more stressful. Of course, nobody could have prepared themselves enough to not be totally stunned by Trump's willful defense of Putin while also undermining the credibility of his own intelligence agents. It should have been enough to carry a unanimous condemnation from Washington, but especially the GOP. Imagine my shock, then, when there were those who still clamoring to Trump's defense. Disgraceful. Embarrassing. Indefensible.

I was hanging onto a thread to my party after Helsinki. Trump's impeachment broke it.

It should have been a slam dunk. The evidence was compelling. The witnesses were convincing. But once again, it was the GOP leadership that made sure it was anything but. Somewhere between their refusal to allow additional witnesses to testify about Trump's crimes and the blatant lies of Trump's attorneys, my faith in the Republican party died. I had finally seen enough. I admit, very ashamedly now, that it should have died long ago. It should've died after the way Trump disgustingly attacked John McCain. After the horrors perpetrated against immigrants at detention facilities at the Mexican border. After he tried repeatedly to strip away Obamacare from millions of Americans without a replacement. When he triggered a government shut down over his border wall, leaving nearly a million Americans furloughed or laid off from work.

But stubbornly, I held on. Hoping and praying that there would be those who could renew my faith in the Republican party by standing up to Trumpism. There were some, I must admit. Jeff Flake. Mitt Romney. Liz Cheney. And of course, John McCain. But it wasn't nearly enough. Not enough to matter. Two days after the final votes came in to acquit Donald Trump, I drove to my local courthouse and changed parties. I have been a Democrat since then.

There were days when I wondered if I would regret my choice. To switch sides to the party my family and quite a few friends warned me about. The weeks after were weird and at times a little tough. But today, as I sit here typing this, those fears no longer exist. I left the Republican party because I felt like the ones who led it no longer represented it the way it should. Today, I see I have no reason to regret my choice.

Trump's response to the onset of COVID-19 pandemic and his shameful assault on our voting systems is without question the worst display of leadership I have ever seen. 250,000 dead Americans on a president's watch would destroy the political careers of any other man or woman in such a position. His blatant dismissal of science and medical expert's opinions would be akin to political suicide. Through his arrogance, selfishness, and sheer carelessness, the United States is hurting socially, economically, emotionally, and mentally, and it seems to me there is no end in sight, at least for the near future. His blatant, terrifying assault on a secure presidential election is just as serious, if not even more so. Never in history has a president and his fanatical allies launched an attack of this caliber against one of the most precious and fundamentally American systems we have, and certainly not one riddled with as much conspiracy, half-truths, and outright lies as what we as a society are witnessing right now. Every day that goes on when Sydney Powell, or Rudy Giuliani, or Michael Flynn, or Donald Trump or any other GOP agent or legislator continue to question, undermine, or attack the way by which we decide our leaders is tantamount to treason. There is no other way to describe it. To be outraged against the results of an election is one thing, to call for the imprisonment of opponents and dissolution of entire systems is something else entirely.

Call this post whatever you wish. A confession. Catharsis. Rage-writing. Whatever you, the reader, decide to make of it, I hope you also see the message within it. Maybe you are like me. You are wondering if you should leave, because you no longer feel represented by your leaders, or because you are disgusted by the actions of the ones who do claim to represent you. Know that there is no shame in it. True, my change of party hasn't been well received by many, but the good thing is, it wasn't about them. Its about following your own conscience. Your own morals or beliefs. I would encourage anyone to leave a party, or group, or whatever else that you feel doesn't represent you. If its no longer in line with your beliefs, please don't something as petty as party loyalty keep you there. There is no good in sacrificing those things that you value the most just to be a "loyal Republican" or a "faithful Democrat". There is nothing noble in gaining a little respect or a little recognition if you have to give up who you are to get it. There are plenty of places to fit in, and you have every right to move around until you find it.