All of us have a time in our life when we lose our innocence. The illusions that comforted us and gave us a sense of identity are shattered, and we face a harsh and unforgiving reality.

For me, that was when my mom had the last of her major strokes that left her paralyzed for the rest of her life. My mom was no longer able to shelter me and financially provide for our family. It also popped the insular bubble I was floating in throughout high school. Brains, good grades, and writing skills weren’t enough to make it through life. Accomplishments like earning Eagle Scout and valedictorian didn’t pay the bills. I had to figure out how to manage finances, navigate social services to get my mom the help she needed, and balance school and work to survive.

Now, we have come to that moment as a nation. The passage of the “Big Beautiful Bill” (which is only beautiful to billionaires and those who like to wear masks and beat up people) is our country’s equivalent of my mom’s stroke. The warning signs were there for years, and the outcome was inevitable. But to see it happen still comes as a shock.

And we also experienced a similar shattering of illusion.

What makes this moment hard is realizing that it has all happened here before. We like to point to 1930s Germany, but it would be more useful to point to our own past. We’ve had concentration camps, mass deportations, large transfers of wealth from the lower to upper classes, voter suppression, political violence, disastrous moral crusades, and genocides. We are not the Shining City on the Hill. We are not The West Wing and Hamilton. We are not exceptional. We are not the Greatest Nation on Earth. And we never have been.

But when your illusions are broken, you can see yourself and the world clearly. And that’s how you move forward.

When my security and fantasies were stripped from me, I had to build a life without them. I found some pieces that were useful. My writing skills became something I could use to build a career. My ability to set goals and work hard to achieve them served me in many areas of my life. I could see my mistakes and learn to correct them. It took time, heartbreaks, and plenty of false starts and setbacks, but I built a fulfilling life upon the ruins of my old one.

We can do the same thing as a nation. Certain values are worth fighting for. Freedom of speech, assembly, petition of grievances, and religion. Equal justice before the law. Civil rights. Welcoming immigrants. Diversity, equity, and inclusion. Free and fair elections with accurate and unbiased vote counting. We have top universities, industrial centers, and natural resources. We have a shared culture. Sports and entertainment give us a sense of national identity. We can also look back at the more noble accomplishments in our history, such as landing on the moon. These give us something to hold on to as we navigate through the difficult days ahead.

We must also understand that these times will not last forever. All tyrants fall. (You can’t build a 1000-year empire on a 79-year-old man.) But we must recognize that things will never go back the way they were, nor should they. We need to use this opportunity to build something new, something more durable, something more just, and something we can all be proud of.

I remember the emotions I had when I realized my mom would never fully recover. I felt rage, grief, and fear. Many Americans, including me, are feeling that way today. (And if you’re feeling happy right now, you may feel differently when those policies start affecting you.) But we pick ourselves up and get back to work. We push back where we can, look for opportunities to take back power, and start creating a vision of what we want our nation to be.

When we let go of the illusions of innocence and see ourselves honestly with clear eyes, we can start building a better future.