Perhaps you, like me, were brought up in a family in which there were lots of political discussions and more than a few dinner-time debating sessions. These did not generally occur when it was just the four of us but when family got together, which was often in my childhood, the back and forth was pretty much inevitable.

There were two other things that were inevitable. My mom would not participate in the conversation when it got heated. While I know she had opinions, she would not venture into the fray. Ever. She expressed herself quietly or she kept her counsel, but she never jumped in on the topic “du jour.” The other inevitability was that someone would put an end to it with the words “We will have to agree to disagree.” And there was often a smile, albeit it a little forced, to restore the peace and move the discourse forward in a more congenial way.

I think about those days when I think about the upcoming holidays and the various social and family events on the calendar. I find myself at a point when my personal, political beliefs are both very clear and very close to the surface. And, for the first time that I can ever remember, there are topics on which my views are so strong that I don’t know that I would want to continue a relationship with someone who held opposite views.

Like my mother, I often keep my political views to myself or share them only with those closest to me. I work to be the peacemaker and to keep the energy positive. I don’t want debates at my dinner table or raised voices or arguments without resolution. And, while I won’t engage in a heated discussion, I will disengage and be unwilling to re-engage. Not just for now but maybe forever.

My hot button issue? It is Israel and its right to exist. I may not agree with the choices and actions of the Israeli government but I know, without question, that this was not a war that Israel provoked or wanted. I have stood on the terrible, blood-soaked ground of the Nova festival. I have walked the destroyed kibbutz at Kfar Aza and seen the devastation of the young adult neighborhood, the evidence of lives cut short and families destroyed.

I hadn’t really thought about this as a possibility, that anyone even remotely connected to my life could feel differently than I do on this issue. But I was confronted with it, indirectly, the other day and realized how deeply it shook me and how strong my reaction. I realized that, while I let many things go, on this topic I cannot have that person in my life. Far beyond the conversation, I cannot have the relationship.

There is no agree to disagree on some things. And while I often say, “this is not my hill to die on,” this one is, this is a topic with no gray area for me. Understanding that this is my truth, living in my truth, is the only way that I can be faithful to my full heart.