The Trump that stole Christmas.

As I gathered with my family this evening to celebrate Christmas Eve, I kept thinking about how different everything feels now. We had a good night with food, lots of laughter, and just being together. It looked and sounded like Christmas. But underneath it, I kept noticing how rare it’s become to sit in a room where everyone truly feels safe. Where you don’t have to wonder if something will be said that breaks the spell. Where everyone knows who’s missing and why, but no one says it out loud. We still enjoy these moments, but they’re heavier than they used to be. And the truth is, even when I’m surrounded by the people I love most, I still feel it, the weight of how much the world has changed. I find myself thinking back to years when it didn’t feel this way. When the air wasn’t so thick with worry. When joy came easier. When we could imagine a future without constantly bracing for what might fall apart next.

And for me, that feeling isn’t just about my own life. It’s about the country too. It’s the sadness of watching something we all believed in, even when it let us down, slowly come undone. This country has never been perfect, not even close. But for a long time, it felt like we were at least moving in the right direction. Like maybe, if we kept pushing, that promise of freedom and opportunity for all could actually become real. Now it feels like that dream is slipping away.

And tonight, while I was sitting with my family, I also couldn’t stop thinking about the people who aren’t celebrating at all. The ones who are sitting alone, not because they want to be, but because they’ve been cut off, by politics, by lies, by division so deep it cracked their families wide open. The ones who lost someone this year, or watched relationships they thought were unbreakable fall apart under the weight of everything happening. This year has been painful in ways we haven’t seen in a long time. And that pain wasn’t just caused by hardship; it was made worse by the people who chose Trump over kindness, truth, and even their own loved ones.

My heart is with every single person feeling the heaviness of that tonight. If this season doesn’t feel warm, or joyful, or even bearable, I want you to know you’re not alone. There are so many of us carrying that same weight and holding you in our hearts.

And after sitting with all of that, I stepped away. I walked upstairs, sat down at my desk, and started to write this to you all. I wanted it to be a message of love and hope. And I still hope it is. Because that’s what this season is supposed to be about. Regardless of religion or tradition, these are the days when we come together, across miles, differences, and generations, and try to remember what matters. We try to pause long enough to feel something real again. Something grounding and good.

And as I started typing, a notification popped up on my screen. The President had posted a new message on Truth Social. And for a moment, I forgot. I forgot who this man is, what kind of messages he shares, and that we can’t expect decency from him, even on nights like this. Because for one brief second, I thought maybe, just maybe, even he would recognize that this night isn’t about politics. That Christmas Eve, at the very least, might pull something human out of him.

But that’s not what we got.

Because while families across America are doing everything they can just to hold it together, trying to figure out how they’ll cover January bills after spending what little they had to give their kids some small bit of holiday joy, the President of the United States picked up his phone and chose violence. There is no way to sugarcoat it. He sent out a message not of peace, unity, or empathy, but of pure, deliberate cruelty.

“Merry Christmas to all, including the Radical Left Scum that is doing everything possible to destroy our Country, but are failing badly. We no longer have Open Borders, Men in Women’s Sports, Transgender for Everyone, or Weak Law Enforcement. What we do have is a Record Stock Market and 401K’s, Lowest Crime numbers in decades, No Inflation, and yesterday, a 4.3 GDP, two points better than expected. Tariffs have given us Trillions of Dollars in Growth and Prosperity, and the strongest National Security we have ever had. We are respected again, perhaps like never before. God Bless America!!! President DJT”

That was the Christmas message from the President of the United States. I did a quick search, just to see, and found that since he took office in January, he has posted about the “Radical Left” on Truth Social roughly 150 times. That’s what he does, over and over again. Labels. Attacks. Divides. Even on Christmas Eve.

As if calling nearly 70 percent of the country, the people who didn’t vote for him, “scum” or “radical” somehow makes us less real or American, or even human. There’s nothing unifying about that. There’s nothing presidential. And it’s not just rhetoric. It’s dangerous. It’s the kind of language meant to pit us against one another until we stop seeing each other as people at all.

And somehow, it still got worse.

Earlier in the day, Trump took part in the NORAD Santa tracker calls, something presidents have done for years. It’s a lighthearted moment with children who are just excited to be part of the magic of Christmas Eve. But not this year. Not with this president. He used those calls to warn about a “bad Santa” supposedly infiltrating the country. Then he defended coal, calling it “clean and beautiful,” as if any child was asking about fossil fuels in the middle of a holiday call. And when a five-year-old from Pennsylvania got on the line, he couldn’t help himself. Instead of keeping it about the little boy, he turned the call into one more chance to talk about himself. “Pennsylvania’s great,” he told him. “We won Pennsylvania, actually, three times. We won Pennsylvania. We won it in a landslide, so I love Pennsylvania.”

Let’s be clear: Trump won Pennsylvania in 2016 and again in 2024, but he lost it in 2020. And yet he still brings it up, even to a child. Because he’s never let it go and needs to say he was robbed. He can’t imagine a world where he simply didn’t win.

This was the actual President of the United States, speaking to children on Christmas Eve, and he couldn’t keep the moment free of conspiracy theories, self-promotion, and political propaganda. It should’ve been a chance to offer joy or reassurance. Instead, it became one more window into how far gone he is, and how dangerous that still is for all of us. This man is not well. And yet, he remains in charge of everything.

And just when it felt like the day couldn’t get more surreal, the Department of Justice released a statement on Christmas Eve, hoping we would all be too busy wrapping gifts, sitting at the table with family, or putting children to bed, to care. The DOJ announced that they had discovered more than one million new documents related to Jeffrey Epstein. One million. On Christmas Eve. And now they say it will take weeks to go through them, to redact what they claim must be redacted, even though the files were already supposed to be made public by December 20 under the Epstein Files Transparency Act. That deadline came and went. And now they’re stalling again, buying time to decide what they want to hide, what they want to delay, and who they want to protect.

Survivors of Epstein’s abuse are furious. And they have every right to be. Because in the batch of files that was already released, the redactions were sloppy and inconsistent. Some victims were exposed by name while powerful people were shielded. This isn’t just a delay, it’s a betrayal. Republican Rep. Thomas Massie said it bluntly: the DOJ broke the law. Twelve U.S. senators are now calling for an independent audit of how the Department has handled this. But if you turn on the news tonight, you probably won’t hear much about any of it. And that’s the point. This was dropped now, today, on purpose. Because this is how authoritarian governments handle inconvenient truths. They don’t argue the facts; they bury them. They control the timeline. They stall. They hope we’re too tired, too distracted, or too overwhelmed to keep paying attention.

And I want to talk about why these files matter. Because for some people, the reaction is, “Well, of course Epstein was a monster, and Trump was in his inner circle. We already know that. What’s the point of digging this all back up?” But that’s not the issue. This isn’t about not believing the survivors. It’s about accountability and power. It’s about who knew. Who looked the other way. Who participated. And who is still walking around today with influence, money, and protection while their victims are left picking up the pieces. That is why this matters so much. And maybe, just maybe, there are a few people still loyal to Trump, people who have believed everything he’s told them, who will see this and start to ask questions. Who will realize they, too, were lied to and manipulated. And that the man they’ve been defending might not be who they think he is.

What I originally sat down to write tonight had nothing to do with the President of the United States. I had planned something entirely different, a letter about love and peace. A message of hope and comfort during a time when so many people are living in a world that feels like it’s spinning out of control. And I still want to share that. Because it still matters. Probably now more than ever.

Tonight, the world feels a little quieter. Not because things are better, and not because the chaos has stopped, but because even with everything going on, people are doing what they can to hold each other close. The fear hasn’t gone away. But even through all the ugliness of the past year, people are trying. They’re wrapping gifts, making meals, spending time with family, or just doing their best to make it through the evening. They’re finding small ways to bring peace into their own corner of the world.

All over the globe, people are doing the same, even in places where life is much harder. In war zones. In refugee shelters. In countries where speaking out puts you at risk. Even there, people are still finding ways to show up for one another. To stay connected. To make sure someone else feels cared for. That basic human instinct to help each other hasn’t gone away, no matter how much cruelty and instability we’re living through.

This night isn’t about religion. It’s not even really about Christmas. It’s about what most people want deep down: safety, peace, the chance to live without fear. It’s about the quiet decision people around the world make every day to keep going. Not because it’s easy or because there’s a guarantee it will get better, but because someone else is counting on them. And they’re counting on someone, too. I think about the mom in a war zone who still braids her daughter’s hair while the walls shake. I think about the doctor who holds up a phone so a husband can say goodbye to his wife. I think about the teenager who spent the last of their paycheck on a gift because they wanted someone they love to feel special. And I think about the people sitting alone tonight, wondering if anyone even notices. This message is for them too.

It might feel strange to talk about love when things are this bad. But honestly, that’s when it matters most. Love isn’t just a feeling; it’s something people choose to do, even when everything feels hard. It’s the friend who checks in. The neighbor who helps. The journalist who keeps reporting the truth even when they’re threatened with lawsuits or worse. It’s the parent who finds a way to keep their kids calm during air raids. The grandparent who still cooks dinner even when the pantry is almost empty. Love doesn’t survive on its own. People protect it. And they’re still doing that every single day.

I’m writing this from California. It’s quiet outside. My family is safe. There’s food on the table. And I don’t take any of that for granted anymore. Not after this year. Not after what we’ve all been through. I look at my daughters and wonder how many more holidays will feel like this, both beautiful and painful at the same time. And I keep coming back to this belief: if we can keep seeing each other, if we can keep choosing one another even when it’s hard, then there’s still something worth protecting. That’s what I’m holding onto tonight. That’s what I want to send out into the world: a reminder that even with so much going wrong, people are still doing what’s right. And that’s not nothing.

So wherever you are tonight, whether you’re with people you love, working the night shift, in a hospital room, grieving someone who should still be here, or just trying to get through another day, I want you to know: you’re not alone. Not tonight. Not tomorrow. Not in what we’re fighting for. There are still so many of us who care, who see what’s happening, and who refuse to give up.

To all people of the world, I’m sending you strength, steadiness, and the kind of love that those trying to destroy our country never planned for, the kind they forgot we still had. They don’t get to erase us. They never will.

Merry Christmas. Happy Holidays. And peace to all of us.

I’ll see you tomorrow,
Heather

P.S. If you’ve made it this far, chances are we see things the same way. You can help me reach more people and keep this work going by subscribing to my Substack; there’s a free option, or you can become a paid subscriber for less than $5 a month. Your support allows me to cover more ground and keep telling the truth about the lies and destruction unfolding in our country.