Posted by: Shannon
For the first time in my life, I’m admitting something I never thought I would say out loud: I regret voting for Donald Trump. It’s not easy to say that, especially as a Latina woman who once believed that he could turn this country around. But the truth is, I made a mistake. I put my faith in a man who, over time, has shown me that his leadership is not about uplifting the American people it’s about control, chaos, and power.
Every day, I wake up and see new headlines about policies and decisions that seem to work against the very people he once claimed to fight for. At first, I brushed things off, telling myself that maybe it was all just part of a bigger plan. But after watching the constant division, the disregard for compassion, and the growing tension in our communities, I realized I can’t keep making excuses for what’s happening in front of me. It’s like he’s making choices that hurt more than they help choices that feel almost cruel toward the everyday American.
When I voted for Trump, I genuinely believed he would stand up for working-class citizens, fix the economy, and put America first in a way that truly benefited everyone. What I didn’t realize was that “America first” didn’t include all of us. It didn’t include people like me, Latinas, immigrants, people of faith, or those who care deeply about fairness and justice. Instead, it feels like we’ve been pushed aside, used for votes, and then forgotten once the speeches ended.
I’ve spent many nights thinking about why I made that decision. And I think it came from a place of wanting change real change. So many of us were tired of broken promises and corruption, and Trump’s strong talk and confidence made it sound like he would finally do something different. But now I see that his “different” wasn’t about building up the nation; it was about building up himself.
As a woman of faith, this realization hit me hard. I started to ask myself: when did we start worshiping a man instead of God? Somewhere along the way, we let politics take over our hearts and forgot that true leadership comes from humility and compassion. We were fooled into thinking that being loud meant being strong and that cruelty somehow meant honesty.
To my fellow Latinas who voted like I did — I know it’s hard to admit it, but we have to. We have to look at ourselves and say, “Forgive me, Lord, for what I have done.” Because we put our trust in the wrong place. We let pride and anger cloud our faith and our discernment. But admitting that mistake is not weakness; it’s strength.
I believe that God gives us moments like this moments to reflect, to learn, and to grow. Maybe this regret is my wake-up call to never put any man above my Creator again. I can’t change the past, but I can speak the truth about it now. And the truth is, I voted wrong. But I’m not staying silent anymore.
