I was reflecting the other day about a friendship that ended a few years ago. At the time, I both felt strongly about how things had taken a turn in our friendship, to the point that I set a very hard boundary with him (he chose not to budge); I also wondered if I was going to regret my decision. He was, after all, one of my closer friends at the time, which made this hard. However, this also came to mind recently due to reflections on perspective shifts I've underwent over the last year in particular.
I think it began with a general reflection on my own political shift, with the psychological component as well. One of the core things that seem to define those that identify as true-red American conservatives is the refusal to give in to the victim mentality. Apart from politics, it is something I have had to work hard on. I'm still working on it. There is, after all, something about free handouts that just "feels nice" and feels "like I'm being taken care of." And while I may not have received such things from the government, I did receive it from family and friends for years. Because of my own brokenness and misdevelopment as a young adult, I didn't know how to pull my own weight as an adult. For me, receiving handouts was a matter of survival. For many years, my reality was, "get a handout, or end up on the street and die."
But I do believe I'm in a different place now. I've got a full-time job. I'm back in school so I can eventually get an even better one. And I've been practicing, more than ever, tapping into and practicing faith as a muscle and an action, as well as positivity. Faith often means trusting without evidence, and without understanding what the heck is going on or where I'm going. And so on.
The first moment of discovery I had about American conservatives and their perspective on the victim mentality came a few years ago at a gig, when an elderly gentleman who had recently left my former church (I'll call him "Mike", not his real name) made a frustration comment about how Democrats and their supporters support and enable the victim mentality: 1.) That was the first time I had known this man's politics, and 2.) It was one of the first insights I really had to how conservatives think they way they think. (Remember: I've spent the vast majority of my life around liberals, even when I didn't agree with them on some key topics.)
I was particularly intrigued by Mike's comment, for a few reasons: 1.) a solid chunk of my therapy experience has been focused on the simple act of growing up, and a solid chunk of that has been breaking free of the victim mentality; 2.) Mike, more so than most people at the church we went to together, was all about (and lived) "trust God," "praise God," "give God the glory," and even when we attempted once to write a song together, he made it clear that it is God's music, and we simply take dictation. In other words, his faith was very razor sharp, even among a church that also regularly preached "trust God," "praise God," and "give God the glory." 3.) it was even evident how Mike lived in God's joy, from moment to moment. It never once occurred to me what his politics might be; all I saw was his faith; and finally, 4.) when Mike revealed, via his comments, that he was a Republican, I had a reaction different from what I expected. When I identified as a liberal in my young adult years, I had cultivated a fear of conservatives based on the idea that they would hate me if they realized I thought differently from them. But even then, there was still as aspect of "old school conservative Republican" that I still really liked. I liked Abraham Lincoln, just not George W. Bush (although I've softened even with him, over the last few years). Mike, to someone from the perspective of "not liberal anymore but kind of just tired with the whole charade", struck me as that "old school conservative Republican" that I remembered liking, along with that razor-sharp "trust God," "praise God," "give God the glory" faith that I remember him absolutely living, through and through. It was because, above all, he refused to ever give in to that victim mentality, lest he lose his faith in God for everything.
Which brings me to my friend I referenced at the beginning. For confidentiality's sake, I'll call him "Dale." He was a man that I walked alongside for a number of years during the healing process who also grew leaps and bounds. We even migrated from one therapy group to another together, a move we both knew would be bumpy for both of us given our respective brokennesses as well as journeys of healing. Like I said, one of my closer friends. He too identified as an American conservative, and even with what I'm about to share, I do believe he placed his personal faith in Jesus Christ.
Our friendship ended as a result of how he handled leaving the second group. Specifically, I ended it by telling Dale his actions towards the group itself damaged our friendship, and I set a hard boundary with something I expected him to do in order to restore the friendship. Granted, there were times, like him, I wanted to leave the group as well, but I stayed because I knew enough about what was on the other side if I stayed, and I wanted what was on the other side badly enough. I stayed. That therefore made it hard for me to understand his rationale for justifying how he left, considering that he seemed clear and rational when he explained it to me for weeks on end. I did, after all, support him moving on, but I had also expected that he would handle it in a mature, adult manner when pressed, and he did not.
In retrospect, two things jumped out at me when considering where Dale was at that would have factored into his rationale to justify leaving how he did. 1.) on at least one occasion, as he was laying out all the different things going on in his life that was stressing him out, he also said: "I guess I'm sounding kinda victimy, but it is what it is." 2.) we had the same counselor for individual sessions, who relayed to me after the fact as I was processing in our session that, given all the things going on in Dale's life, all he could do was survive.
The bottom line of it all was that Dale did not ever see the second group we were in together as a safe, supportive group, like he had with the first. Reflecting on that, I feel sad for him, because I've stuck around and been able to reap the benefits thereof. But he missed out, due primarily to his own fear and resistance to being vulnerable with the others.
And he was going through a lot: financial stresses, family situation stresses (and being the adult through it all), and then medical stresses were added on top of it. Suddenly, personal growth was no longer the priority for him that it once had been. (And, knowing his journey, it had been a high priority for him for a long time. Who knows? Maybe there was burnout present among the other things.) But what still strikes me to this day is that, while I believed (and still do) that he did have perfectly legitimate adult reasons to step away, the reason he ended up giving regarding leaving was the "victim" card. He expressed awareness of it to me behind closed doors, and then decided to stick with it anyway. That was the most disappointing thing about it, in the end. He could have left well, and he chose not to, because he really believed he was the victim in all this, when really, he wasn't.
I think that, contrasted with the fact that he identified as an American conservative, is what still surprises me to this day. But then again, even though I believe he placed his personal faith in Jesus, he also had shared with me that he wasn't going to a church regularly, and likely hadn't for some time. Hearing him also share of other close family members losing their faith in God altogether when some of their own crises came up gave me a clue as to some of the consequences of that. My guess then is that, because he was churchless, even though he believed in God and the Bible, he either didn't really trust Jesus with everything, or he simply had an impossible time doing so.
So does this change how I see American conservatives? No, not really. In fact, my experience with Mike was much more powerful in this regard. But it's interesting considering Dale's case. Even without church, he had a number of beliefs he held onto (including being generally pro-recovery process as well as an understanding of how difficult life is) that were good and would lend themselves to keep him positive. But he also didn't have church. Maybe that's what made the difference in the end. And, as I reflect on some of the posts that I've recently published, I'm realizing that this is likely a key crucible for me.