Last month, Ann-Coulter-in-training Tomi Lahren appeared on The View and shocked pundits on both sides of the aisle by saying she was pro-choice. She claimed it was because she’d always supported limited government, and if she agreed with senators who wanted to tell women what to do with their bodies, that would make her a hypocrite.

She was immediately suspended from Glenn Beck’s news network “The Blaze,” and her show was terminated.

Now, some of you may have been watching The View and you might’ve said to yourself, “Yeah, Tomi. Excellent point.” Then you might’ve heard that statement echo in your head, over and over again. “Yeah, Tomi...excellent...point?”

Maybe you let it go, but found yourself in a meeting at work, replaying the tape of yourself praising Tomi for her clear thinking.

“Are you okay?” a coworker asks.

“What?” you reply. “Oh, yeah. I think so. I think I am.”

You give your coworker a half-smile and continue gazing out the window, trying to remember the last call you made to your senator. It was a month ago. A month ago.

Then maybe you woke up the following morning and made yourself a nice cup of tea to quiet your demons. “Do I even know where this tea came from?” you ask yourself. “Is it ethically-sourced? I don’t think I even checked.”

You feel your throat start to close up and it’s harder to get a full breath. You run back and check your closet. The first thing you see is a white robe. Your heartbeat quickens.

“Does that have a matching hood??” you think as you rifle through your fleece.

Then you spot the Marriott logo and remember the trip you and Steve took to Seattle. You had a conversation about Syrian refugees in the Lyft on the way to dinner. Which side were you on again?

You hunt through the rest of your closet until you find your “Black Lives Matter” t-shirt. You put it on over your pajamas and take a deep breath. You spot your pussy hat and put that on, too.

You’re fine. You’ll be fine.

You make an appointment with your therapist.

“Humans are complicated,” she says, squinting at your BLM T-shirt and Hello Kitty pajama bottoms. “Do you need to wear that hat in here? It’s pretty warm.”

“Yes. Yes, I do,” you reply.

“My uncle was a card-carrying member of the NRA and the ACLU,” she continues. “Our brains can hold all kinds of divergent views.”

“Yeah, but just last week, I called Tomi a racist, transphobic, Nazi-loving, self-hating, maggot-encrusted rotting piece of c*nty Trump steak.”

“Jesus,” your therapist replies, shifting in her seat.

“I know! She’s the worst! And if I agree with her, what does that say about me?”

“It says that you’re able to find common ground with those you disagree with,” she says. “That’s a good thing.”

“No, it’s not,” you say. “It’s weak, and as soon as you start to show your weaknesses, that’s when they pounce!”

“Okay,” she says. “I think we should think about getting you on some meds. In the meantime, try to calm down. You don’t know what every person you meet believes. I’m pro-life, for instance.”

“WHAT?” you reply. “How could you not tell me this on the first day?! This is outrageous.”

You gather your things and huff out of her office, throwing wadded-up 20-dollar bills at her Southwestern-themed couch as you leave.

And as you press the “unlock” button on your key fob and hear the familiar horn emanate from your forest-green Outback with “Reject Corporate Personhood” and “Coexist” bumper stickers, you know everything’s gonna be okay.