By Amanda Knox

Tuesday, I dressed up for a big celebration—pearl tie, rainbow-plaid pantsuit—and attended The Stranger’s countdown party at the Showbox. I rubbed shoulders with colorful Democrats sipping “Donkey” cocktails made with Bombay Sapphire gin. I joined in the sportsman-like cheers and boos as predicable states were officially called for Blue or Red. But as I witnessed Hillary lose Florida, Wisconsin, Michigan, Pennsylvania…my jaw dropped. I backed up against a wall, sank to the ground, and watched as people with gold H’s painted on their cheeks trickled out of the venue, miserable and bewildered. At the end of the night, I was relieved that Hillary decided to wait until the morning to give her concession speech. I was already crying.

Like all of my politically liberal friends, I still haven’t wrapped my mind around it. I’ve not strayed far from media and social media, scrolling for signs of perspective and direction. I’ve struggled to reflect on what’s happened, what’s going to happen, and what, if anything, I can contribute to the conversation. What unique perspective do I have on the whole thing?

Well, imagine if the President-elect of the United States had personally supported you during your worst crisis and most vulnerable moment. That’s my reality. Trump is on the record as supporting my innocence and my family when I was on trial for a murder I didn’t commit.

And now imagine that not only do people criticize you for opposing the pro-life, pro-death penalty, creationist, anti-immigrant, anti-LGBT, anti-NATO policies Trump represents, but they act as if you have no right to disagree with Trump, as if you supposedly owe Trump allegiance after benefitting from his support. That is also my reality.

Back in December 2015, I wrote an article called “Memes, Motivations, and Millennials,” discussing what I felt were the bigoted positions of the alt-right as represented in memes I came across in social media and in then-Republican-primary-candidate Donald Trump’s statements about Muslim immigrants. In response, one commenter wrote:

"Wow. Like wow. I am really sorry that I ever supported you now. You have really turned into a left wing lunatic. You know nothing of what Islam teaches. It is a death cult bent on the domination of this world by force. Those “memes” as you call them are telling the truth. Go read the Koran and you will see for yourself. Yet you have the audacity to turn around and attack Christianity and spew left-wing lunacies about “climate change,” and gay “marriage?” When Christians are being literally exterminated by Muslims all across the Middle East? I see your experience in Italy has left you completely ungrateful to be an American. I thought you would appreciate the fact that our system and way of life was better than that of Italy or the rest of the world. When you were in trouble, I donated money to your cause, wrote letters to my senators on your behalf and defended you on several blogs. Donald Trump, who I plan to vote for, also defended you and stood by you but now you turn around and indirectly attack him? You should be ashamed of yourself for this article. Wish I had my money back."

There’s a lot to unpack in this comment, but what strikes me the most is that this person’s support of me hinges upon my politics, not the fact of my innocence. And this person believes that my own politics should hinge not on the merits of political policy, but on personal loyalty.

Again, last month, I wrote an article called “Champion,” describing how Trump’s statements about abortion in the second presidential debate were misinformed, and how Hillary’s position on women’s reproductive health was the source of my enthusiasm for her presidential candidacy. A commenter wrote back that, while I needn’t endorse or vote for Trump, my criticism of him wasn’t “nice,” seeing as Trump had stuck up for me.

The message was clear. Because Trump defended me in the past, how dare I not defend him now? And if I don’t defend and endorse him, at the very least I should keep my “left-wing lunacies” to myself.

Even worse, other media have simply assumed my support of Trump because of his support of me. In a surreal twist, I came across the headline: “Amanda sta con Trump: ‘È l'unico che mi ha aiutata davvero.’ Nel 2011 il presidente Usa invitò a boicottare l'Italia.” Translation: “Amanda stands with Trump: ‘He’s the only one who truly helped me.’

In 2011 the U.S. president invited people to boycott Italy.” This Italian newspaper, Corriera della Sera, not only completely made up that quote—I never said words even remotely similar—they also completely overlooked the fact that I’ve been plenty vocal about my support for Hillary and my opposition to Trump, and have been plenty criticized for it.

Politics is not a tit-for-tat game. It’s not: I helped you, now you help me. As my friend Gavin puts it, only in Banana Republics do rich political leaders dole out favors in exchange for your silence and your vote. Tit-for-tat politics are a threat to Democracy, and it troubles me that some Trump supporters subscribe to that policy.

Trump’s politics concern me in a very personal way. Chris and I want to start a family in the next few years, but since Tuesday, I’ve worried that my healthcare may be in jeopardy when Obamacare is repealed. I’ve worried that Pence’s history of invasive, obstructive, and misinformed policies about women’s reproductive health will affect my options should something go wrong with a pregnancy. I’ve fretted over the future of my LGBT friends. I’ve cried out in outrage over rumors of the immanent appointments of climate-change-denier Myron Ebell to the head of the Environmental Protection Agency and creationist Ben Carson to head of the Department of Education. Trump doesn’t support the values I believe in, so I don’t support him for President. Simple as that.

Yes, Trump defended my innocence, pointing out there was no evidence of my participation in Meredith Kercher’s murder, and that the sole incriminating factor was “only something stupid that she said after being tormented for hours and hours.” In my case, Trump recognized that coercive interrogations produce false admissions, a well-studied and documented fact.

But Trump claimed the exact opposite in the Central Park Five case, calling for the death penalty to be reinstated in New York, even though their rape convictions rested solely on false confessions resulting from coercive interrogations. Even now he views them as guilty, though they were exonerated when the true perpetrator, a serial rapist, confessed to the crime. Why did Trump defend me and condemn them? Is it because I was an American on trial in a foreign country? Is it because I’m a white woman?

In a time when my entire family had already tapped into their retirement savings and taken out second mortgages, we were grateful when any supporters, including Trump, donated to my defense and spoke out about my innocence. And like some of my supporters, Trump had his own ideas and his own way; he called for the U.S. to sanction Italy until they released me—a pronouncement which only amplified anti-American sentiment towards me in the courtroom. Even if Trump means well, his schemes tend to be blunt, selfish, and short-sighted, rather than nuanced, empathetic, and thought through. Back then, when the stakes were highest, my family and I couldn’t afford to be so reckless. Now, at this crucial political juncture, the U.S. has decided to take the Trump chance, and I think our choice is just as blunt, selfish, and short-sighted as Trump himself.