Hello, Rationalization
Here's the exit
I was pushing a stroller. It was a weekday. A nice day, nice enough to take my infant daughter out for a walk in the neighborhood.
That we were walking at that time in the morning meant I had the time that day, that work allowed this little break to appreciate the sun, the birds and this peaceful little outing along quiet streets.
And then my phone rang.
It was my husband at the time, breathless. I needed to help him. Right away. He didn’t know what to do. He was running. Trying to avoid arrest. Hoping the undercover female officer he had spent the previous night with wouldn’t find him.
I needed to pick him up. Now. At a sleazy motel. The one known for its hourly rates.
I honestly can’t remember if I picked him up that day, the day he was tangled in a drug and prostitution sting. But I do know that I stayed, in that marriage, that I somehow found a way to explain away an egregious incident that — if told to me by a friend — would inspire me to help her immediately pack her bags and get the hell out.
Or better, pack his.
When I think back on that scene, as heinous as it was, one thing stands out. I had just one baby in that stroller. In the years that followed, I welcomed two more, with that guy. And the only way that was possible is because I rationalized his ongoing, and increasingly frequent, abusive behavior.
Rationalizing is a coping mechanism. It is not only how you give yourself distance from abusive behavior, it’s how you survive it and how you remove your own culpability — how you tamp down your own conscience and values — so you don’t have to compromise on the bigger ones, the ones you view as your foundation.
Rationalize: attempt to explain or justify (one's own or another's behavior or attitude) with logical, plausible reasons, even if these are not true or appropriate.
Divorce was my “bigger one.” I didn’t want to go there, even as I would daydream while driving around town of living in an apartment or a different house on my own. The kids and I would be fine, I would tell myself. We could do it, I’d say in my head, while running to Target or something.
And then I’d go home and explain my husband’s behavior to my friends and family as something that was beyond his control, something that was less than it was, something that only I understood.
Stepping back from the Republican party may be the “bigger one” for Trump supporters. Saving face in their conservative communities might be it. Or, having to admit that you were wrong — that you believed the words of a convicted abuser, conman and insurrectionist — could be the “biggest one.”
Right now, Trump supporters who are undoubtedly in an abusive relationship with their cult leader, are rationalizing his behavior to avoid an uncomfortable moment of self reflection — consciously or unconsciously. They are choosing to look the other way at his nominees, his governmental destruction, his constitutional assault, his tyrannical takeover and his disobedience towards democracy…because it’s actually more comfortable to just sit tight.
Allow me, a domestic abuse survivor, to let you all off the hook. Abusers look like bullies, and in some respect they are. They often zero in on weaker adversaries to give the illusion of strength. But oftentimes that’s just their own perception.
Putin thought Ukraine was an easy target, and that much smaller, much more frugally-funded army has held a world power at bay since early 2022. What abusers, like Trump, also appreciate is to control those with perceived strength. By doing that, it makes him look even stronger and more powerful.
I give you the entire Republican party. Both chambers of elected Republican congressional leaders, in his trance, sitting by idly as he ransacks America at the expense of Americans, with zero regard for the people who put them into office. And even less regard for those who didn’t.
You’re not dumb if you voted for him. You’re not dumb if you believed him. Abusers like smart and powerful individuals in their orbit because those types of people make them look good. And that’s all they care about.
I’m not dumb. And I wasn’t dumb when I was in that relationship, even though I can’t count the times I referred to myself that way. I wasn’t dumb.
I rationalized. It gave me the permission I needed to avoid a bigger discomfort.
One foreign leader recently said the tactic in dealing with Trump’s demands is to just agree to give him the satisfaction of “winning” without ever doing what you say you’re going to do. Insert Canada and Mexico here, offering up things they were already doing to appease him.
Just give him the moment. He wants the appearance of victory, which is why so much of his executive order signing is televised. He wants the moment.
But really, the time has come for Republicans to break free and recognize that their party has been taken hostage and it’s led to a hostile takeover of the entire American democratic system. We’re now beyond kitchen table politics here and we’re wading into global instability as the tide is coming in.
I don’t know how I rationalized the behavior I did. I don’t know how I went through that day even, after learning about his drug-fueled evening with a woman hoping he’d solicit her. I don’t know how I even got to that moment in my life, where I could start another day next to a person like that.
I don’t have to know. And you don’t have to know either. Like, sort it all out later. The “why” can wait. It’s inconsequential to this moment.
You’ll have time to reconcile your political choice with your faith, the person you are, the people in your life and your love for your country. That will all unfold.
Right now, the rationalizing has to stop. You would not tolerate the behavior of this president, the one you elected, from anyone else. Not even close. You’ve shown as much previously.
Just like I would not allow a friend or family member to tolerate a cheating husband in need of help after a drug-fueled all-nighter with another woman. There is no logical, plausible explanation.