They Chose a President. I Chose Peace.

There’s something poetic about karma showing up unannounced.

Sometimes it arrives looking older, more messy, and standing on your porch asking for a peace offering.

Yesterday, my doorbell rang.

Standing there… figuratively and almost literally… was the ghost of friendships past.

One of those old friends. One of the loud ones. One of the people who proudly chose a man, a movement, and a message over the actual human beings in their lives. A person I once laughed with, trusted, shared memories with. A person who, when it mattered most, chose politics over people.

Funny how that works.

Back when Trump first took office, so many people treated it like a game. A jersey to wear. A team to cheer for. They posted memes, wore hats, doubled down online, and smugly told everyone he’d be “great for the economy.”

That was the script.

Meanwhile, those of us paying attention… the so-called woke people… said exactly what would happen.

We said division would deepen.

We said cruelty would be normalized.

We said rights would be threatened.

We said truth would become optional.

We said friendships and families would be fractured.

And look around.

Thank fake God we were woke.

Because “woke” apparently just meant awake enough to see the train coming while everybody else was taking selfies on the tracks.

I didn’t end friendships over “different opinions.”

I ended them over values.

There’s a difference between disagreeing on tax policy and celebrating rhetoric rooted in hatred. There’s a difference between debating economics and voting alongside people who openly wanted to erase the rights of gay people, people of color, immigrants, women… anyone who didn’t fit their version of America.

What hurt the most wasn’t even the vote.

It was the silence.

Not one friend said, “Hey, maybe we should think about how this affects you and your husband.”

Not one friend said, “Maybe taking rights away from people we claim to love is wrong.”

Not one friend picked up the phone.

That silence told me everything I needed to know.

Now, as the shine fades and the movement starts limping instead of marching, some people seem confused by the wreckage. They’re realizing they traded friendships, trust, and dignity for a politician who was never going to love them back.

Now they want peace offerings.

Peace doesn’t erase memory.

Some doors don’t reopen because someone finally feels embarrassed.

Some apologies expire.

Some friendships don’t die in one dramatic moment… they starve slowly from neglect, cowardice, and repeated choices.

Trump won’t be president forever.

Movements fade. Flags get folded. Slogans lose steam.

People will remember how you treated them when you thought cruelty was trending.

I’m doing just fine now. Better, actually.

My circle is smaller. My peace is bigger. My standards are higher.

And if regret is finally making house calls?

Tell it I’m busy.

Xoxo, AB 💅💄💋