I Was A Frustrated Progressive, Until Charlie Kirk Showed Me Conservative Compassion

I know this divide personally—I was once the progressive at those tables, quick to get upset when others challenged my views. As a lifelong liberal, my beliefs felt unshakable. But life has a way of upending certainties, and for me, that shift began when I started advocating for boys and men, a cause that led me to an unexpected crossroads.

When I began traveling to Washington, D.C. to raise awareness about the struggles facing boys and men, I naively expected support from my fellow Democrats. Instead, I was met with indifference. Surprisingly to me, it was Republicans who showed genuine interest in addressing these issues. This was my first reckoning: to create meaningful change, I had to set aside my preconceptions and engage with those I’d once dismissed. It was a humbling realization, one that challenged the core of my identity as a progressive.

My journey took a pivotal turn when I received an invitation from Turning Point USA to attend a conference for young women in Dallas as a special guest. I hesitated. As a left-leaner, I was wary of stepping into a conservative space. But curiosity—and a nagging sense that I needed to understand the “other side”—pushed me to attend. There, I met Charlie Kirk, the organization’s founder. I braced for confrontation, but instead, I was greeted with warmth and openness. Charlie didn’t demand agreement; he encouraged dialogue. That weekend, I found myself laughing, debating, and even two-stepping at a local hoedown with people I’d once considered ideological opposites. They knew I leaned left, yet they embraced me—not as a convert, but as a person with something to say.

That weekend, I found myself laughing, debating, and even two-stepping at a local hoedown with people I’d once considered ideological opposites.

That experience shattered my assumptions. I’d been wrong to paint conservatives with a broad brush. More importantly, I realized that clinging to my political identity was stifling my ability to grow and effect change. Charlie Kirk’s core mission was clear: create spaces where ideas could be debated freely, where people could step outside their ideological boxes and listen. I was living proof of its power. I left Dallas with not just new friends, but allies in my advocacy—people who shared my passion for helping boys and men, even if our politics weren’t always aligned. I didn’t magically transform into a Republican, and there are plenty of ideas and tactics coming from that side I still don’t agree with, but I became more open to understanding and embracing the idea that people had different views than me.

When I returned home, I made a decision that changed my life: I stopped “checking a box.” The pressure to align with every tenet of a political party, Republican or Democrat, had constrained my thinking. I was part of the division in our nation. It forced me to defend positions I wasn’t fully convinced of and silenced my ability to stand up for what I truly believed. By letting go of that rigid allegiance, I found freedom. I attended more Turning Point events, forging connections that have supported my advocacy for seven years. These relationships, built on mutual respect rather than ideological conformity, taught me the value of meeting others where they are.

Charlie Kirk was a polarizing figure to some, and I understand where they’re coming from, but for my personal experience, he and his organization were a catalyst for letting go of my rigid beliefs. A family man and a faithful soul, he championed free speech and open debate, particularly on college campuses where young minds are often trapped in echo chambers. He believed passionately in his own views, some I disagreed with entirely, but created spaces where everyone could have a voice. His approach wasn’t all about winning arguments; it was about fostering understanding and breaking down ideological walls. In a nation where political loyalty often trumps reason, this was revolutionary.

By letting go of that rigid allegiance, I found freedom.

We need more of this today. Our country is starved for conversations that bridge divides rather than deepen them. Too often, we’re encouraged to pick a side, to check a box and defend it at all costs. But no one agrees with a party line on every issue—it’s an unrealistic standard that stifles nuance and progress. When we reduce ourselves to labels, we lose the ability to think independently, to find common ground, and to solve problems.

My advocacy has since evolved into a non-partisan mission. I work with people across the political spectrum, focusing on shared goals rather than differences. This emotional maturity—learned through those early Turning Point experiences—has allowed me to build coalitions that drive real change for boys and men. I’m no longer the frustrated progressive at the dinner table. I’m an advocate who listens, learns, moves forward and has more compassion for everyone, their views and their experiences.

Charlie Kirk’s legacy should be a testament to the power of open dialogue. My willingness to engage with his organization changed my life. Though he’s no longer with us, his vision of a world where ideas can be debated without fear must live on with Republicans and Democrats. If we want to heal our nation’s divides, we must put aside our boxes, embrace compassion, and start talking. Rest in peace, Charlie.