About a decade ago, I was standing on the beach with a couple of my uncles, enjoying the perfect balance of sunshine and breeze. As water pooled around our feet, somehow the not-relaxing topic of politics came up.

In a moment of boldness, fueled by alcohol, I posed a somewhat inflammatory question: “Does it bother you that these people don’t care if I’m dead?”

What I meant was that, without policies like the Affordable Care Act, health insurance companies could have their way with me—denying coverage entirely due to my pre-existing condition or setting annual or lifetime caps on the amount they’re willing to pay for medical care.

After an understandably awkward pause, one of my uncles dropped his head. “I think about that sometimes.”

To this day, I still can’t decide whether I’m grateful I was thought of, or whether I’m angry that this was the equivalent of a “Yeah, but …”.

I always secretly hoped that they were just unaware of how certain policies affected me—a person they love.

I’m not trying to change any minds. I’m just sharing a glimpse into something that weighs on my soul, especially during an election cycle. And I know I’m not alone.

So, I suppose this is really just a shout-out to others who, like me, struggle to reconcile loved ones’ mixed messages—whether about access to healthcare, who you love, or the color of your skin.

“I love you, but…”.