I no longer live in the best country in the world.

When I was growing up, I thought the United States was the best place on Earth to live. Over the years, my perspective has shifted, and recently, it has shifted rapidly.

When I was young, the country was Fourth of July celebrations and ice cream parlors. I was obviously naive back then, because it also was racism and the Vietnam War. Those things were far away from the rural childhood of a perpetual optimist.

As I grew up, I saw the downsides, but I comforted myself by saying “At least we’re trying to be our best.” It was a comforting idea, and there was plenty of evidence. Even as recently as Obama’s election, there was room to hope that America stood for true equality, at least in its ideals.

With Trump being voted into office twice, I have no illusions anymore. His very campaign promise was to take away from the people his constituents couldn’t stand. The opposite of equality. He has fulfilled this promise in a thousand petty acts on the national and international levels. His definition of freedom is predicated on it being granted to his sycophants, white nationalists and supremacists. As a country, we are bullies. We are no longer the good guys.

I think about moving to Canada, but I don’t have the independent wealth I would need. I don’t have the skills they need and I am too close to retirement. I don’t know if a blue wave would be enough to restore the country. I doubt it — the hatred is still here, still will survive. I do not live in the best country in the world