Yesterday, near the end of Knit Happens Wednesday, just as I was wrapping up a lovely session of stitches and chatter, a conversation unfolded that rocked me to my core.

Out of nowhere, this intelligent, confident Latino woman timidly drops:

“I voted for Trump.”

Not in passing. Not as a footnote. But as a social experiment.

Her goal? To see how we’d react. Because apparently, she had recently lost a close friend over this and was feeling some kind of way about whether she’d still be accepted in spaces she cared about.

Now, the golden rule of Knit Happens is NO Politics, NO Religion. This is sacred yarn space, where the biggest debates should be over things like “Is it called a granny square if it’s a hexagon?” or “Can you ever really have too much yarn?”

But… we were a small group. The clock was ticking down. And curiosity got the better of me. So, I let it play out.

Internal Reaction: 💥SYSTEM OVERLOAD💥
I won’t lie. My brain short-circuited for a second. The neurons started sparking like an acrylic sweater in a dry winter.

The initial, deeply visceral reaction went something like this:

“WHY?”
“As a woman… WHY?”
“As a Latino woman… WHYYYY?!”

If my thoughts had a sound effect, it would have been a record scratch followed by the Windows error chime.

But I said nothing. I took a deep breath. Let the wave of emotion pass. And instead of unloading my knee-jerk thoughts, I sat with them.

And you know what? That was the best thing I could have done.

Because instead of a debate, a conversation happened. Not about politics, not about policies, but about acceptance—about what it means to have space where you’re not automatically judged for one decision, even a major one.

And really… who am I to decide whether her vote was right or wrong? I’m Canadian. My country prides itself on compassion, on being a safe harbor in a storm. And yet, this still bothered me.

Like… why, though? Why did this moment dig into my brain like a stray stitch in the middle of a lace chart?

Midnight Musings:
I woke up in the middle of the night still mulling it over.

Was it because of the ongoing chaos to the south that has spilled into my own country? Was it the seeming contradiction of voting for someone whose policies don’t seem aligned with her personal reality?

Or was it something even deeper—this weird assumption that kindness is weakness? That being open-hearted, welcoming, and trying to do the right thing somehow makes us vulnerable?

Is it weak to do the right thing, even when no one is watching?
Is it weak to be compassionate, even when others sling mud at you?
Is it weak to be a friend to the world?

Or—plot twist—is that actually our greatest strength?

Because the funny thing about kindness? People mistake it for passivity. They don’t see it coming when the time comes to stand firm and fight for what truly matters.

Final Thought:
So, what did I learn?

That my first reaction doesn’t have to be my final reaction. That listening—not agreeing, but just listening—can be powerful. That empathy is a tool, not a trap.

And that at the end of the day, knitgroup is knitgroup. A place to weave together people, not just yarn.

So I’ll keep being me—stubbornly kind, fiercely thoughtful, and always up for a good discussion… as long as it’s about knitting. 😉

Until next time Friends…