I bristle at the idea that you can only be a patriot if you support right-wing politics, because love of one’s country isn’t a narrow lane reserved for a single worldview, but a wide, living landscape shaped by all who call it home.

Patriotism, to me, is the quiet pride that comes from the familiar sights, the tenderness you feel for the winding streets and windswept coasts that have held your memories, and the hope that your nation can grow kinder, fairer, and more truthful than it was before. It’s the stubborn belief that we can face our history with honesty, learn from our mistakes, and still strive for a better future.

Reducing all that to a rigid political badge feels painfully small, almost like shrinking the soul of a country to fit a slogan. True patriotism doesn’t ask you to fall in line behind a single ideology. It invites you to love your nation enough to question it, challenge it, and seek its flourishing, even when that means swimming against the tide.