Please, Not Politics
I hate talking about politics, and I’ve struggled to explain why.
Today, I had a casual conversation with a coworker about politics. He had very strong opinions which were due to his life experience, but which were very different from my own position. I knew that my opinion could easily appear to attack him, personally, and so I didn’t say much. Then, as the conversation moved, I made a strong comment about my position on another political subject, and immediately saw that he did not at all agree with me. He didn’t fight me on it, though. The conversation ended.
Since that time, I’ve been sitting with a knot in my stomach. I felt sure, somehow, that I had said something wrong in that conversation. I felt I had misrepresented myself or misrepresented the facts. I can’t think of anything I did wrong except, perhaps, not have facts at the ready to defend my position, so I wouldn’t have been making claims out of thin air, as some do. No matter how I work it, I can’t seem to get over the look of shock on his face. Somehow, I must have done something wrong.
And this is how I feel nearly every time I voice an opinion on politics. Someone will disagree, and it will end, and I’ll be left wondering if my opinion was wrong, or if I said it incorrectly, or if someone was rightly offended by my stance. Believe me, it isn’t intentional. If I could just drop it I would. The only times I feel comfortable and happy discussing politics is with people who I believe will patiently listen to my point of view, and be calm while they express theirs. Any amount of heat in the discussion gives me a stomach ache.
So, please, pardon me if I ask you not to talk to me about politics. I probably don’t know you well enough. You can talk to me about something else, but please, not politics.
