Life
after Maga: the group offering an ‘exit ramp’ for rightwingers questioning
Trumpism
The
non-profit Leaving Maga is built on the premise that abandoning the Trump-built
movement is like fighting a disease or breaking an addiction
Four Maga defectors on what led them to walk
away: ‘I’d been addicted to fear and rage’
Fabiola
Cineas
Tue 1 Sep
2026 10.00 BST
https://www.theguardian.com/us-news/2026/sep/01/leaving-maga-support-group
Stephania
Messina kept birthing boys. In the Quiverfull conservative Christian church she
belonged to outside Detroit, Michigan, that made her a community celebrity.
Your quiver, as the church taught it, is your womb, meant to be filled with as
many arrows – a metaphor for children – as you can shoot unto the Lord. She
shot five. “They treated me like I was Mother Mary, like I was this gift to the
church,” she said.
But while
she was quickly pushed into leading worship and Bible study groups for women
and children, she wasn’t permitted to talk about politics.
“It
wasn’t my job to vote or to know who to vote for. I was just supposed to submit
to my husband and do what he thought was necessary,” Messina said. “I was being
indoctrinated into Christian nationalism.”
Messina
quit her job, yielded to household voting, and took on home schooling and
homesteading in a farmhouse, as part of an early 2010s precursor to the “Make
America healthy again” (Maha) movement. When Donald Trump launched his first
presidential campaign, he was suddenly “God’s chosen one” in the church, she
said.
Though
Messina was never a “red-hat wearing” Maga supporter, she didn’t start
questioning the movement until the early days of the Covid pandemic. Trained as
a respiratory therapist, she watched Trump reverse course daily – from claiming
the Covid vaccine was good to questioning its effectiveness. Meanwhile, her
pastor preached that Covid lockdowns were a “demonic deep-state attempt to keep
people out of church”.
After a
few other instances left her with doubts, she expanded her news sources beyond
the church’s approved media, and then, she said: “The dam broke.” She sought
mental health support and began to understand her years inside Maga as what she
calls “a religious psychosis” built on fear, isolation and control. When she
finally turned away from the church in 2021, she was cast as an outsider but
felt the need to proclaim her Maga exit on social media: “I started speaking
out to spread awareness. I was in so deep.” She felt alone. A few years later,
she connected with the group Leaving Maga.
“Leaving
Maga is about normalizing leaving,” said Messina. “And it’s especially
important now, since I think the Maga [bubble] is bursting.”
Many
Americans, like Messina, have drifted away from Trump in the past decade, but
have done so quietly. Leaving Maga offers an exit ramp from Trump’s rightwing
movement that has reshaped the Republican party and platformed political
extremism. Launched in 2024, the movement turned non-profit is built on the
premise that abandoning the Maga identity – and the community surrounding it –
functions less like changing one’s mind and more like leaving a high-control
religious group, fighting a disease or breaking an addiction. It requires not
just rejecting a set of beliefs but rebuilding an entire structure of belonging
and identity.
Leaving
Maga has touched thousands, operating on multiple fronts: weekly support
meetings for the friends and family of people still inside Maga, monthly
in-person meet-ups for those who have already left, a nationwide billboard
campaign built around invitation rather than confrontation and a budding media
literacy program meant to help people recognize disinformation. The goal isn’t
to start or win a debate – it’s to give people somewhere to land once they’re
ready to leave on their own.
“There
are more people than ever who are in Maga who are starting to have doubts and
confusion,” said Rich Logis, who founded the group. “We’re trying to counter
the toxicity of the Maga community by providing an exit ramp and a community
where people can become what I call ‘a born-again human being’ and can reclaim
their individuality, their empathy and their agency.”
How
Leaving Maga works
Logis was
drawn to Trump’s “burn it all down” energy in 2016, voting for him that year
and in 2020. He spent nearly a decade as one of Maga’s most committed foot
soldiers, writing the campaign’s call script for the first presidential
election, helping register new voters for Trump, donating money and appearing
on Fox News as a Maga pundit. But his decisive break from the movement came
after the Uvalde school shooting in 2022 – he could no longer square his own
values with the response he knew was coming from Trump supporters.
Months
after the Texas shooting that claimed the lives of 19 children and two
teachers, Logis published a public apology online for supporting Trump and
hurting people with his actions and rhetoric. The response was overwhelming –
people commended him and criticized him – leading him to start the movement. He
figured others had also left Maga and wanted to repair the damage they caused.
“I had to
go through a reckoning and acknowledge to myself that I had been culpable and
complicit in assisting the president in dividing our country and amplifying
conspiracy theories that resulted in unnecessary death, suffering and trauma,”
Logis said.
He built
Leaving Maga the way he poured into Maga years prior – by writing countless
online posts, speaking out on social media and reaching out to others. On any
given day, Logis is on Instagram Live explaining how and why he left and how
others can do the same.
Maga
leaders have defined the movement as one that calls for economic nationalism,
secure borders, “America first” foreign policy and traditional conservative
values, said Laura K Field, a political theorist and author of the book Furious
Minds: The Making of the Maga New Right. “But an element of Maga that gets
underestimated is its community-building dimension,” she said. “There’s a kind
of appeal – a fascist and contrarian element, a deep religiosity to it – that
unifies different parts of Maga, including the ordinary voters who aren’t DC
beltway types, the elites, the high-powered Catholic intellectuals, or those in
the manosphere, for example.”
Logis was
one of those people who saw Maga as a community more than a political ideology.
“I think that it’s where people find vindication and validation,” he said.
“It’s where they feel seen and heard and respected and appreciated.”
But the
glue holding the community together was “lies and falsehoods” and an “addiction
to fear and rage” fueled by misinformation and disinformation, he said. “[In
Maga], I had a dangerous belief in a ‘they’. A ‘they’ who were trying to
abridge my rights and indoctrinate my children and take my guns and replace
white people with brown people and foreigners.”
Logis
argues that leaving Maga requires more than distancing yourself from the
president; you have to actively renounce Maga’s underlying conspiracy theories
and also commit to building democracy that understands “we as Americans agree
on important issues more than we disagree.”
Logis and
Messina describe leaving as a project of rebuilding empathy that Maga has
deliberately suppressed. “As I began to listen to the people I had been told
not to – the feminists, the people who they called ‘race baiters’, trans
creators – my empathy came back,” Messina said. Logis put it similarly: leaving
means you “no longer need to dehumanize and vilify and demonize those with whom
we once disagreed”.
They also
don’t try to change the minds of Maga supporters. The idea is to let those who
are already questioning it know there is support on the other side. “It is my
philosophy that I do not engage in debates with people who are in Maga,” Logis
said. “I don’t try to bombard and inundate people with facts and with policy.”
Instead,
he and other representatives for the organization spread the word through
Instagram live streams and TikToks that receive thousands of likes. They go on
cable news programs to speak out against the movement that once dominated their
lives. One of the most effective methods is billboarding. Nearly 40 billboards
have gone up in 27 states this year, with a simple message: “Having doubts?
You’re not alone.” Logis said more than half a million visited the group’s
website last year, and just as many have visited so far this year.
Through
the website, people can sign up for a newsletter that shares testimonies about
people’s journeys out of Maga, access a guide on how to talk to family members
and friends still engaged in Trumpism and join online group chats and monthly
meet-ups with others who have left.
Carter
Brown, a former self-proclaimed tradwife who voted for Trump in 2020 and 2024,
said Leaving Maga had helped her realize she needed to do more than just speak
out online after leaving; she needed to help rebuild. “It has taken
deconstructing my religion and the dogma of western theology and realizing that
I wasn’t even living like Jesus,” Brown said.
She has
changed her views on women’s rights, LGBTQ+ rights, capitalism and immigration.
Brown said she now votes according to her new beliefs, volunteers with groups
she harmed with her votes and has conversations with people she harmed. She
also seeks friendship with people who have different lived experiences than her
own.
Leaving
Maga is growing, Logis said, as polls show Trump’s increasing unpopularity. In
recent months, Logis has spoken with people who left after being fired during
“department of government efficiency” (Doge) cuts. Others have been turned off
by Trump’s broken promises on foreign policy and rising costs. Messina said the
people she had met in Leaving Maga came from all kinds of backgrounds.
“We got
into Maga for different reasons and got out for different reasons,” said
Messina. “This is a space to learn other people’s stories and reckon with our
own. Though the right knew how to capture us in its algorithms, I feel like the
tide is turning.”
How the
group supports friends and family of Maga supporters
Leaving
Maga’s weekly online support group isn’t for people in Maga – it’s for the
people who love them. That includes spouses, adult children, parents, siblings,
friends and extended family who have watched someone close to them become “not
the person who they once were”, said facilitator Julianna Forlano.
Forlano,
a therapist, has worked with families of people with narcissistic personality
disorder and in addiction recovery, and said the ruptures she sees every week
aren’t really about ideology. “What’s happening in families and in marriages,
and between mothers and daughters and fathers and sons has to do with
behavior,” she said.
Forlano
and her group borrow a framework used in addiction and recovery circles,
treating the psychological grip of constant fear-based media and conspiracies
like a disease. The mechanism is neurobiological, she said: people who consume
a steady diet of fear narratives become fearful in general, adopt a “with us or
against us” mentality and start treating loved ones as threats.
“The mind
is functioning as a dopamine seeker,” she said, craving the next piece of
alarming news the way an addicted brain craves its next hit. Forlano is careful
to note that holding certain political beliefs doesn’t make someone diseased;
the compulsive, threat-seeking pattern layered on top of those beliefs is what
the group tries to address.
The
stories members share reflect how the rupture disrupts daily life. One member
married into a Latino family with her parents’ blessing, only to watch those
same parents tell guests to “speak English” at her child’s birthday party and
use slurs about mixed-race people; she has since decided her parents can no
longer be part of their lives. Forlano said even conversations that start out
ordinary can snap into political conflict without warning. “You could say
something as simple as: ‘The tomatoes in my garden aren’t growing,’ and that
person will respond by saying: ‘Well, climate change is a hoax,’” she said.
Instead
of encouraging members to cut ties, or to keep engaging in the kind of
fact-based debate Forlano believes is useless, the group teaches patience and
creates a space for members to see they aren’t alone. Members are coached to
“hold the door open”, staying present in case a loved one ever starts to notice
cracks in what they have been told, without continuing to push, argue or send
articles that only further entrench the divide.
The first
step, Forlano said, was admitting that everything they have already tried
hasn’t worked and to stop warring. Conflict often de-escalates once one party
stops pushing back, she said. From there, the work isn’t about holding out hope
that loved ones will turn on Trump and the movement he built; it’s about grief
– mourning the relationship as it was, finding solidarity with others living
through the same struggle and rebuilding a sense of self. Members stay in touch
through group chats between sessions, trading techniques and support in real
time.
“The
supportive nature of the community has been healing,” Forlano said. “It helps
people find their footing again.”
What life
after Maga looks like
Coming
out on “the other side” is different for each person leaving Maga. Logis now
supports Democrats. Messina has gone further. “I consider myself a democratic
socialist now 100%,” she said. “I’m a member of the DSA. So is my son.” She has
become an outspoken supporter of Abdul El-Sayed, the Democratic candidate for
US Senate in Michigan, and describes watching her husband and her 20-year-old
son’s friend group all turn decisively against Trump within the past two years.
But that
doesn’t mean everyone in her family has left Maga. Her mother, 64, voted for
Trump twice and still struggles to fully let go of messaging that casts
Democrats as enemies.
However,
Messina has slowly had influence. She has talked to her mom about misogyny,
intersectionality and the privilege that white women in Maga wield. “Now we’re
working on Islamophobia because she can’t say Abdul El-Sayed without cringing
because of these deeply ingrained biases,” Messina said. Their arguments used
to end in screaming matches, but Messina has learned, slowly, not to cut her
mother off. “Cutting them off completely just furthers the divides,” she said.
The group
continues to grapple with questions about forgiveness and grace. How much grace
does the rest of the country owe people who spent years amplifying conspiracy
theories before denouncing Maga? Logis said Leaving Maga regularly receives
hostile messages from people who see forgiveness as unearned. Logis understands
the anger, he said, but argues that a movement built entirely around punishing
defection offers no incentive for anyone else to leave.
“I am not
asking anyone to like me. I’m not even asking for forgiveness,” said Messina.
“I just hope that you’ll take what I have to say and believe it because I don’t
have anything to gain except to hope that we can make a change.”
This story was amended on 1 September 2026. A
previous version quoted Julianna Forlano as saying the mind functions as a
“dope” seeker; in fact, Forlano said the mind functions as a “dopamine” seeker.
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