The results of the Nov. 5 presidential election are a somber turning point in our nation’s history. For me, this election exposes the ugly undercurrent that America once tried to keep hidden. Now it’s out in the open, condoned and even celebrated. But beyond politics, this moment has led me to a personal realization: My vote was never really about politics at all.My conscience has always guided me to vote for human decency. I support policies that align with my belief that true leadership embodies kindness, honesty, integrity, and character. It’s not about the party — it’s about values that transcend party lines.Some may call me naive for believing these ideals should play a meaningful role in leading a nation. Perhaps now, such aspirations seem like a pipe dream. But I refuse to surrender this notion. I hold to my convictions because I know first hand the cruelty that people are capable of.For most of my life, I’ve fought to transcend victimhood, to rise above the pain inflicted by those who thrive on intimidation and dominance.I have experienced meanness in many forms — personally and by watching it unfold around me. From the bullies on the playground to the aggressors in the community, I know the damage that cruelty inflicts. Chronic bullying has a way of eroding self-worth, leaving one to question whether they are somehow at fault. It drives people to hide their light, to fade into the background, or worse, to perpetuate the cycle by becoming bullies themselves. Being repeatedly bullied ingrains a survival mechanism that pulls us into a binary response: shrink or fight. As children, we don’t see ourselves as victims. We only know survival. We learn to blend into the background or, at times, to mimic the very cruelty we despise to avoid becoming the next target. And this brings me to the election and its result.The re-election of Donald Trump feels like a personal defeat to me and to millions of Americans.To me, it signifies the triumph of bullying. No matter how I try, I can’t see it differently. When I listen to Trump speak, I hear the voice of a bully, and I’m not alone. Many, especially women, are feeling a loss that’s less political and more psychological. Women, with their innate intuition, can sense malevolence in ways often dismissed by others. We are witnessing the rise of a leadership that validates our deepest fears. My own intuition — a gift honed in a tough environment — has never sounded the alarm louder.Some say we are entering a period of “uncertainty,” but I feel certain of what lies ahead: cruelty, judgment, violence — all inflicted on those who dare to advocate for decency.Bullies mistake decency for weakness, and they will exploit any avenue, even religious scripture, to justify their actions. Those of us who have experienced the effects of cruelty recognize this reality, and we are horrified to see such a person chosen to lead.Our anger, our fear, our grief stem from the realization that cruelty has now been given a platform, a seal of approval. The voices advocating for kindness and fairness will be drowned out. Anyone paying attention to Trump’s rhetoric has already been branded “the enemy within.”Perhaps Donald Trump’s true enemy is his own bullied inner child. I won’t speculate on the root causes of his behavior — or that of his supporters. But I cannot accept that the majority of Americans, who profess belief in God, have consciously chosen cruelty as their compass for the future.I am left with a bleak certainty that our nation is headed for a painful reckoning. We’ve handed the car keys to the proverbial drunk uncle who promises to safely drive us home. Many of us knew the risk, but others were swayed by his assurances of control.How many lives will he run over on this reckless journey? Those who care, who feel, who understand the gravity of this decision — we sit in the backseat, bracing for a crash we cannot prevent. Our national journey has veered off course, steered by those who masquerade cruelty behind a facade of righteousness. America, it seems, has failed the sobriety test.Glenn A. SmithPark CityThe post The bully’s pulpit appeared first on Park Record.