There’s a particular brand of right‑wing religious performance in this country. Costumed certainty, finger pointing, and a fixation on transgender people. They claim, “You’re pretending to be something you’re not.” Yet it’s these self‑proclaimed saints who are cosplaying Christianity, donning the guise of holiness while neglecting its true substance.

When they look at gay people, their disdain runs even deeper. They believe joy and freedom are forbidden to them, and witnessing love lived openly infuriates them. They’ve been taught to bury their own desires and live in shame, so they lash out at those who refuse to conform. And when they reach for scripture, they cherry pick. They hold up the verses that condemn homosexuality while ignoring the ones that condemn their own greed, cruelty, and hypocrisy. They weaponize the text against others while excusing themselves from its demands.

Their accusations reveal their own truths. When they say, “You’re corrupting children,” what they really mean is, you’re not letting us corrupt children the way we want to. When they say, “You’re poisoning the nation,” what they really mean is, you’re not letting us poison the nation the way we want to. When they say, “You’re pretending,” what they really mean is, you’re not letting us pretend the way we want to.

Their fragility makes them defensive. Instead of introspection, they double down, projecting and gaslighting. They cosplay righteousness while rotting inside.

This is the union of American exceptionalism and Christian authority. One insists America is chosen. The other insists Christians are perfect. Together, they forge a creed of untouchability. To question them is treason. To resist is sin. And at its core, it is selfish. A me attitude paraded as destiny. They call it exceptionalism, but it is nothing more than sanctified greed. A demand to take, to rule, to stand above. And if you refuse to bow, they claim you are attacking them. If you deny their superiority, they cry persecution. Their entire identity depends on being above you, and the moment you refuse to kneel, their illusion shatters. This is the soil they’ve tilled, and from it Christian nationalism grows, fed by fear, watered by entitlement, and harvested as control. Exposure is death to the costume they wear.

I know that by mentioning Christian nationalism, some will try to discredit me, claiming ignorance of the term. But that’s the point. Many recognize the behavior, the performance, but lack the language to confront it. Without naming it, you can’t fight it. Once you identify it, denial becomes more difficult.

Remember this. When they tell you who the enemy is, accusing you of corruption, sin, or pretense, they aren’t describing you. They are confessing. Every charge they hurl is a reflection of themselves. The rot they name is their own. The corruption they scream about is theirs. The pretending, the poison, the danger, it’s always them. And deep down, they hope if they yell loud enough, everyone will believe them.

It’s time for them to know we see through the costume.