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Long Ago
Months ago, I started looking deeper. I wanted to understand more, to really see the truth behind the stories I grew up with. Stories about how we, the United States, were the good guys. How we fought wars to free people, to spread democracy, to make the world a better place.
But now, I can’t find that story anywhere. It’s just not there.
I’ve tried. I’ve looked at the wars we fought, the governments we toppled, the places we’ve claimed to save. And I don’t see freedom or democracy or peace. I see destruction. I see unrest. I see lives shattered.
Vietnam. Iraq. Afghanistan. Libya. The list feels endless. We march in, waving the flag of liberation, and leave behind chaos. Power vacuums filled by warlords. Families torn apart. Entire generations who will never know stability or safety.
And for what?
The deeper I dig, the more it feels like we weren’t there to help. It wasn’t about the people living there. It was about oil. It was about power. It was about keeping the world under our thumb.
I don’t sleep well anymore. I wake up in the middle of every night, my mind stuck on the images I’ve seen, the stories I’ve read. The drone strikes, the bombed-out cities, the refugee camps. I wake up in the morning with the same thoughts running through my head: what are we doing? How can we do this to people?
And the worst part? I feel like there’s no one to talk to about it. Complaining on Facebook feels pointless now. My friends don’t want to hear it. They’re tired of my posts. They just scroll past, or worse, they comment things like “that’s just how the world works.”
But I can’t just accept it. I can’t shrug my shoulders and move on. Not when I know the damage we’re causing. Not when I know how many lives we’ve ruined and continue to ruin under the guise of doing good.
So I sit here, writing this, because I don’t know what else to do. And maybe that’s the question I’m left with: what can I do? How do I stop feeling so helpless? How do I stop us from hurting so many lives?
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