That feeling in my stomach

Once upon a time, maybe he wasn't so orange 
but that doesn't matter now.

A psychology professor once said to us, "If you get that feeling in your stomach that you're being manipulated, you are."

Originally, I wrote a post for this space about Melania Trump's no-win interview with Anderson Cooper, in which she stood by her orange man and said everything she should have if she wanted him to be even less likeable to the masses sixty-eight stories below. 

My impression of Melania Trump was neutral going into the interview. She'd stolen some of Michele Obama's speech which lowered her grade, but her husband had just been outed as a predatory, misogynistic frat bro and maybe she was crushed, so I raised it again.

Also, how happily do they co-exist up there in the clouds, I wondered before the interview, trying, trying to give Melania the benefit of the doubt. 

Because.

How do we know Melania hasn't been facing a true crisis of "Jesus, when did this happen??" How do we know she doesn't wake up 3:00 a.m. with monkey mind like the rest of us, look over and say, "Holy crap, WTF happened to the guy I met during fashion week?" 

But really, I wrote it to get right with my own conscience. I had been prepared to loathe Melania Trump as much as I loathe Donald because she's married to him and not for any other reason. In truth, apart from the speech excerpts she stole, she lacks a history deserving of honest contempt. 

So, I reached for my generosity, a way to sympathize with a person who might be seriously, seriously, conflicted and stop judging her solely on the basis of who she married. 

Then I watched the interview. I cringed as she defended Trump's behavior with only bland words of disapproval. I said right out loud, "Don't do that," when she victim-shamed her husband's accusers, and by the time she'd offered the boys-will-be-boys explanation for his abominable remarks, my hopes that Melania Trump was a decent but (understandably!) conflicted person were leaking air like an uncapped pool toy. 

Just the same, I wrote my devil's advocate post and put it up. 

Then I took it down.  

Because I'm not sympathetic, and I don't feel she's conflicted at all. 

The post I'd written was a clearing of conscience, because I'm not accustomed to auto-disliking anyone. I'm accustomed to considering the likable side of an unlikable person and putting it on display. Normally, I'm not ruled by my assumptions, but try to chase assumptions from my thinking.

This election season has made it harder. And now, professor, I'm getting that feeling in my stomach.  

With constant exposure to the trials and missteps of others, I have started to expect the worst of everyone. Accustomed to watching people fall in the press, on the internet, and on television, I only hope it's not one of "ours." I'm judging more than I ever have, and I'm sure I'm judged just as quickly when I post my delight over Trump's biggest blunders.

It has been a tough year for good people who want to support one candidate or the other but do not wish to treat people the way they treat each other. In myself, and in others who are normally open-minded and tolerant, I see our reluctance to express political preferences openly anymore, but for all that discretion, I hear people express themselves in language that sounds angrier, closed to reason, and isolating.

If we can't look away, is it because we've become hyper-vigilant? Conditioned to expect attack? Have we transferred our fear of what lies beyond us to what lies within? 

Recently, I texted a friend after a stretch of pivotal news days for the candidates and said, "I keep refreshing the front page of the Post, but I don't know what I'm waiting for." 

That is what an opinion looks like that has been feeding on chips and dips from the news for too long and needs to go on a serious diet that consists of reason, objectivity, distance, and possibly a spa treatment of arguing the case of a supporter from the other side.  

I'll try to post my weights as they change.