These are very confusing times. Not because we have more opinions than we used to — humans have always had strong opinions about how to raise children, how to spend money, and who should lead. What’s different is how personal those opinions have become, and how public.
We all make personal choices every day. How we raise our kids — what we feed them, how we discipline them, what schools we choose, what values we try to pass on. What car we’d like to buy — electric or gas, truck or sedan, new or used, practical or fun. And what political candidate to vote for in the next election.
On the surface, those are three very different categories. One feels deeply moral. One feels practical and financial. One feels civic. But in 2026, they all feel like statements about who we are and that is where relationships started to fray.
It used to be you could disagree with a neighbor about a candidate and still borrow his ladder. You could think your sister was too strict or too lenient as a parent and still show up for Sunday dinner without a debate. Now, a choice is often read as a declaration of values. The car in your driveway isn’t just transportation, it’s a statement about what you believe about the economy, the environment, or freedom. Do you drive a hybrid/electric car or do you have a big diesel truck? See what I mean?
How you parent isn’t just a family decision, it’s seen as a position on culture. And of course, who you vote for is no longer just a preference for policy — it’s taken as a summary of your character. Social media accelerates this. We see the most extreme version of every position, every day.
Algorithms reward certainty and outrage, not nuance. So we start to assume our friends and family believe the most extreme version of their side, even when they don’t. The result is a quiet sorting. People pull back. Family group texts go silent around election time. Friends avoid certain topics. Some relationships end not with a fight, but with a slow fade, because it feels easier not to engage than to risk being judged or judging someone else.
And that carries a real loss. If we only stay close to people who parent exactly like us, buy what we buy, and vote like we vote, our world gets much smaller. We lose the benefit of people who know us beyond our opinions — the aunt who disagrees with you politically but was there when your kids were born, the friend who drives a car you would never buy but who you can call at 2 a.m.
It’s healthy to say, “I love spending time with you, but I don’t want to debate parenting or politics tonight.” Boundaries protect relationships; ultimatums end them.
These are confusing times because we have more information, and more visibility into each other’s choices than ever before. That confusion is understandable.
If we can stay firm in what we believe while being gentle with each other, these confusing days may not divide us, but show us what still matters. It may not be a solution but it’s a start.
“Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ, God forgave you.” – Ephesians 4:32
Being About The Journey 