For me, I left when the peak offering of the season was Joe Biden vs Donald Trump. I was initially confused at how, with all the bright minds in America, this was the best our current political system has to offer. Parties are supposed to be inspiring, even fun, but these parties are more like cults that gossip and spend their evenings spiting their perceived “radical enemies” while drinking a big ol’ cup of echo-chamber Kool-Aid.
And listen, I tried to make it work. Really, I did. I sat through the debates. I read the platforms. I even downloaded a voter guide that looked like it was designed by the same person who makes IKEA manuals. I wanted to care. I wanted to believe the system could change.
But at that point I realized, the whole thing feels less like the democracy we aspire towards and more like being stuck in the world’s most toxic group chat. The messages were always the same:
“If you’re not with us, you’re against us.”
“This is the most important election of your life”
“Click here to donate $20.24 before midnight to defeat the Radical enemy”
That’s when I realized this isn’t a party. It’s a hostage situation with branded merch.
Gatekeepers for Power
Try to join one of the parties today with an ounce of independent thought. I dare you. Want to be a fiscally conservative environmentalist? Nope.
Support the Second Amendment but also think healthcare shouldn’t bankrupt people? Get outta here, you Demodog.
The two parties don’t welcome nuance. They depend on its absence.There are litmus tests, ideological exams, and the unspoken rule that you must hate the other side with the fiery rage of a thousand suns or risk being labeled a "traitor" or "RINO" or "woke extremist”.
Meanwhile, the actual power? It’s concentrated in the hands of party insiders, mega-donors, and consultants who think "the people" is just another consumer to poll and manipulate. The system isn’t broken—it’s functioning exactly as designed: to keep outsiders out, insiders rich, and the rest of us in a constant state of voting for "the lesser evil" instead of searching for a renewed American inspiration.
Monopoly on Rules
Here’s the kicker: the parties make all the rules. Want to run for office? Good luck if you’re not endorsed by the local party boss. Want to vote in a primary? Often not if you dared to register "independent", which, fun fact, is the largest group of voters in the country.
They write the maps. They control the debates. They choose the nominees. And every four years, they come back around like exes who swear they’ve changed.
But somehow, it's always the same: no vision, just vengeance. No solutions, just slogans. No unity, just increasingly niche culture wars between people who still think "owning the libs" or “rage tweeting the resistance" is a productive national policy.
So…. just leave
Seriously. You can. You should. And no one will stop you—except maybe your cousin who still thinks Jake Tapper or Sean Hannity is doing hard-hitting journalism.
You don’t owe the parties anything. They’ve gerrymandered, voter-suppressed, filibustered, and fear-mongered their way into irrelevance. The only reason they still run the show is because we keep showing up to buy the tickets, even when it we know it’s going to suck.
Leaving doesn’t mean giving up. It means refusing to be held hostage by a false-choice binary system that’s older than color television. It means becoming the kind of voter they can’t predict—and therefore must respect.
And guess what? There’s no exit interview. No emotional farewell. No one’s going to follow you out of the Democratic or Republican tent like, “Wait, but what about our loyalty points?”
You leave. You breathe. You realize you don’t have to pick between two options created by the same people who think 81 is the prime age for leadership.
Independence Isn't Isolation
The parties want you to believe that without them, you’re powerless. But what if the opposite is true? What if real power comes when we stop trying to squeeze into outdated categories and start demanding a system that actually reflects who we are?
The future doesn’t belong to red hats or blue waves. It belongs to the ones who walked out of the party, took a breath, and said:
“This isn’t good enough anymore.”
So go on. Just leave.
Written by,
Austen Campbell
Founder | Independent National Coalition