Curiosity is the new rebellion…

Curiosity Over Judgment

We are living in a loud time.

A divided time.
A line-in-the-sand, pick-your-side, cancel-or-be-canceled kind of time.

Everyone seems to have an opinion.
Everyone seems to be drawing boundaries around who is “in” and who is “out.”
And if you don’t respond loudly enough or correctly enough, you risk being misunderstood.

But here’s the quiet truth:

We don’t actually have to participate in all of that. We don’t have to live in a constant state of judgment. But choosing not to requires something harder. It requires curiosity.

When an Opinion Makes You Bristle

You know that feeling.

A friend or acquaintance says something and you feel your body tighten. Your chest gets hot. Your jaw sets. Your internal dialogue kicks in.

How could they think that?
How can they support that?
Don’t they see what I see?

That moment, right there, is an invitation.

Not to react or to post a rebuttal. And definitely not to mentally categorize them as “other.”

But to get curious.

“What led you to that conclusion?”
“Help me understand how you’re seeing this.”
“What experiences have you had that shaped that perspective?”

Too many of us interpret differing opinions as threats. And, why is that?

Why does someone else thinking differently feel like a personal attack? Do we really need to surround ourselves only with people who agree with us on every issue? Build tidy little echo chambers where our views are never challenged? Or can we allow others to have their own thoughts without slamming doors in their faces?

The Election That Tested Me

During the last election, one of my closest friends was extremely outspoken. And she held opinions that were completely opposite of mine at the time. She posted. She shared articles. She made strong statements. She was not quiet about where she stood.

At the same time, I watched friends and family cutting people out of their lives right and left over who they were going to vote for. Decades-long relationships severed. Holidays tense. Group chats imploding.

And I made a decision.

If someone was important to me, they were going to be my priority over who was going to be president. I was not willing to allow politics to end a sacred friendship. So I chose curiosity and boundaries over combat.

Since neither of us were budging on our stance, I simply determined that we would not talk about politics. If she brought it up, I gently changed the subject. If we were in a group and she started ranting, I’d quietly take a bathroom break.
If things got heated, I’d redirect. Not in a passive-aggressive way. In a protective way. Because the relationship mattered more than being right.

Watching where our country is politically now, it feels terribly foolish to base any relationship on a political view. The world feels chaotic enough. Why would I voluntarily light a match in a friendship that has stood the test of time?

Curiosity Creates Space

Living in curiosity doesn’t mean you don’t have convictions. It doesn’t mean you abandon your values or stay silent about what matters. It means you don’t see every difference as a battlefield.

Curiosity says:

• “You can think that, and I can still care about you.”

• “We don’t have to agree to stay connected.”

• “Your humanity is bigger than your ballot.”

Judgment shuts doors. Curiosity opens conversations.

Judgment assumes. Curiosity asks.

Judgment divides people into categories. Curiosity remembers that people are complex, layered, and shaped by experiences you may not fully understand.

The Strength to Not Engage

Sometimes curiosity leads to meaningful dialogue. Sometimes it simply leads to peaceful coexistence.

There is strength in saying, “This topic isn’t worth losing you over.” There is maturity in knowing when to engage and when to excuse yourself to the restroom. There is wisdom in protecting sacred relationships from temporary cultural storms.

We are allowed to opt out of outrage culture.

We are allowed to prioritize connection over commentary.

We are allowed to say, “I value you more than I value winning this argument.”

A Better Way Forward

The world is noisy. Politics will shift. Leaders will change. Issues will evolve. But the way we treat each other, that’s lasting.

If we cannot hold relationships with people who see the world differently than we do, our circles will grow smaller and smaller until all we hear is our own echo.

Curiosity is not weakness. It is emotional maturity. It is confidence strong enough to say, “I don’t feel threatened by your opinion.” In a cultural climate that rewards outrage and division, choosing curiosity is almost rebellious. But it might also be the only way we preserve the relationships that matter most. And in the end, people are always more sacred than politics.

XXOO Jeanna