You know, I never thought I’d be the guy writing a blog post like this. Family drama? That was always something other people dealt with.

My brother and I—we didn’t grow up especially close. It’s not like we hated each other or anything, we just lived in different worlds. I was the skateboarder kid, always out with my crew tearing up the sidewalk or getting kicked out of parking lots. He was more of a bookworm, quiet, stuck in his own head a lot. We had different friends, different vibes, different everything.

We never fought, but we didn’t hang out either. We just coexisted under the same roof. You could say we were peaceful strangers with the same last name.

But now? I haven’t heard a word from him since last November. Not a text. Not a call. Nothing.

He blocked me. Not just me—he blocked all our mutual friends, too. The reason? Politics. Straight-up, who-we-voted-for politics. That’s it.

I get it, this country’s been split for a while now. People are passionate, emotions run high, and social media throws gasoline on every tiny spark. But come on… family? We’ve disagreed on a hundred things before. Hell, we never agreed on music, food, or how to fix a car, but we always made it work. We were brothers first. At least, I thought we were.

Now he’s out here calling people like me “cult members,” “Nazis,” and who knows what else. I hear from others that he’s constantly on Facebook ranting, posting non-stop negative stuff about the president and anyone who supports him. It’s obsessive. It doesn’t feel like he’s trying to change minds—it feels like he’s at war with anyone who doesn’t see the world through his exact lens.

Look, I’m not writing this to bash him. He’s still my brother. I love him. But I can’t lie—this whole situation has made me step back and wonder what’s really going on with him. This kind of anger, this level of fixation, it’s not healthy. It’s not normal. I honestly think he needs to talk to someone. Not because of his political beliefs, but because of how extreme and personal it’s all gotten. It’s like something broke in him and he doesn’t even realize it.

I’m not perfect. None of us are. But I believe this with everything in me: politics should never come before family. Not ever. Presidents change, policies come and go—but blood? That should mean something. You don’t throw people away over a vote.

I hope one day he sees that. I hope he picks up the phone or unblocks me, or just… remembers we were brothers before we were ever voters.