My parents and I never really agreed on politics. I remember participating in a mock election in elementary school and choosing Al Gore. My parents supported George W. Bush. In high school, I remember hearing my dad's disparaging comments about Obama. In 2012, when a Mitt Romney sign was put up in our front yard, I kicked it down declaring, "Not everyone in this house is voting for him."

The years 2015 and 2016 were a tough time for a lot of us in the United States. The unfolding political drama and its ultimate outcome was stressful and disappointing. For me, what hurt even more was seeing my dad's triumphant post the morning after election day and hearing that my mother also voted for Trump.

See, the thing is, I was against Trump ever since he announced his run. He started his bid for office by saying, "When Mexico sends its people, they're not sending their best. They're not sending you. They're not sending you. They're sending people that have lots of problems, and they're bringing those problems with us. They're bringing drugs. They're bringing crime. They're rapists. And some, I assume, are good people." I know many immigrants and children of immigrants, some from Mexico, some from other countries. None of them smuggled drugs or have raped anybody.

Trump openly talked about his plan to end DACA. I am in a relationship with a DACA recipient. He's been a part of my life for almost a decade. For him, the end of DACA would mean the loss of his job and driver's license. For me, it would mean financial instability and constant fear of my partner being deported without a moment's notice.

Trump mocked a reporter with a physical disability. I have a sister who has a disability. I grew up trying to shield her from bullies. Why would I vote for a president who is proud of being a bully?

In general, he makes a lot of comments about gender and race. I don't understand why he wanted to lead a country that is racially diverse if he thinks so negatively of other races.

I let my anger get the best of me the day after the election. In the comment section of my dad's post about Trump's victory, I posted a picture of him mocking the disabled reporter and wrote, "Pretty sad a parent of a child with special needs would vote for a man who acts like this." My dad never said anything to me. He just deleted my comment.

A couple of years ago, my dad was showing me pictures he had taken at a Halloween event of him with someone in a Donald Trump costume. He was so excited about it and was laughing. I asked him to stop. He's done it multiple times and it always feels like he is trying to get some sort of reaction out of me.

I feel like I can't talk to my parents about my political opinions. I guess this is true for many families, and it's often a topic that is avoided. But it is unfortunate that I couldn't even talk to them about who it affected me personally. How the immigrant students I was working with at the time came into class the day after the election and were scared and upset. How my life was affected when the administration announced the end of DACA. How their vote affected their own child.

While part of me is grateful that the 2020 election cycle has been pretty quiet, especially in comparison with that of 2016, I do wonder what this will mean in November. What is certain is that my parents and I probably won't talk about it.