Derrick Wentworth picks things up. He works twelves -- that's 12-hour-shifts -- at the Walmart Distribution Center in Lewiston, Maine, loading trucks with hundreds of boxes, some weighing as much as 50 pounds. Like Tetris, he says.

Derrick lives with his wife, Evelyn Circeo, and their 8-year-old son in nearby Lisbon, Maine. She works long hours, too, as an X-ray tech at Maine Medical Center, a busy regional hospital. On Wednesdays, their only shared day off, they put their son to bed and stay up late enough to watch the 8 p.m. news. It's a sometimes lively tradition, especially when the stories get political. Derrick's conservative views can clash with Evelyn's more progressive ones, turning their cozy living room into a political battleground.

In an era of polarizing partisanship, the boundaries between political identity and personal life have become increasingly rigid. Analysis from the Institute for Family Studies suggests that the rate of politically-mixed marriages decreased from 30 percent in 2016 to just 21 percent in 2024. Today's political issues, like diversity inclusion and gun control, seem more personal than ever. Partisanship can impact relationship satisfaction, prompt avoidance of certain conversations, or even lead to estrangement from friends and family. But for couples like Derrick and Evelyn, political disagreements are just another part of life.

Gabbi Kearns is the director of communications and marketing at Braver Angels, a nonprofit organization promoting political depolarization through respectful dialogue. She says navigating bipartisan relationships isn't about trying to change a partner's mind. It's about having respectful dialogue. That helps understand why a person holds certain values.

"You know, the things that drive us crazy about the people in our lives are also the reasons that we love them," she says. "Relationships are the most important thing in life…. It's about trust. That's what keeps our country moving forward."

Partisan lines are most cleanly drawn in times of turmoil. When a disruption changes the patterns and routines of daily life, and disagreements that could otherwise go unspoken can no longer be ignored. For Derrick and Evelyn, that moment came on October 25, 2023.

On that day, 18 people were killed in a spree shooting in Lewiston, Maine, less than 10 miles from the Wentworths' one-story house. It was a Wednesday, right around bedtime for their then 6-year-old child. Evelyn's eyes still get misty thinking about that night, and the 49-hour manhunt that ensued, a mere mile and a half away in the woods beyond their usually quiet cul-de-sac.

"It was the scariest night of my life -- probably the scariest week of my life," she said. "Just like, not knowing if we were safe… but also having some really hard conversations."

That night, instead of watching their usual local broadcast, Derrick and Evelyn -- who are both usually in bed by 9:30 -- sat in their living room for hours, afraid to blink. They watched the live feed of the manhunt, listening to a police scanner on Derrick's phone, until the sun rose. They carried a tiredness and tension that lasted for days. Their polite disagreements seemed a thing of the past.

"That week, a lot of things kind of came up on us all of a sudden," Derrick said. "Everything that we talked about --like philosophically -- before, was really real."

It was a sore spot that had grown into a swollen purple bruise. Derrick, who identifies as a Republican, is a strong supporter of the Second Amendment.

"All of a sudden, it was like I was this representation of this horrible thing that had happened," he said. "And I kinda felt like she was thinking I was the same as this horrible person."

Evelyn, who identifies as a Democrat, doesn't like guns. Derrick had wanted one in their house for protection, but Evelyn was against it. For that long night and the week that ensued, it was all they could think about. Derrick kept a baseball bat leaning against their curtainless back door. He felt like he couldn't protect his family. Evelyn too thought about their son, thankfully unaware of the tragedy that seemed to surround them. She wondered if guns weren't what had started their anxieties in the first place.

Research suggests that during these times of chaos, couples with mismatched political views feel increased stress. But hallmarks of a strong relationship: empathy, respect and shared values can help reduce the tension.

"I think at the same time we both just realized that we were safe, [our son] was safe. And that's what mattered," Evelyn said. "At the end of the day, that's the most important thing."

For the Wentworths, common ground isn't rooted in politics. It doesn't have to be. "Our political views don't define our lives," Derrick said. "We can disagree about a lot of things, but at the end of the day it's like: do I still care about her? Does she care about me? Yes? Okay then, we're good."

For some, political ideology is a barrier to that care and respect on which Derrick and Evelyn have fostered a healthy relationship. As polarization grows, politics become a form of social identity. A person is represented not only by markers like age, gender identity and race, but by who they vote for and what they believe in. And sometimes those political values are in contention with others.

That's how it is for Jen Lawlor, a 24-year-old shipping worker who lives on the South Shore. Jen is a registered Democrat, and a lesbian. To her, conservative ideology is at odds with not only her values, but her sense of self.

"Being part of the queer community, even just being a woman, I feel like my rights are constantly being threatened," she said. "When people are arguing against things like gay marriage, or the rights of my trans friends to exist, yeah -- I'm not too keen to entertain those types of people anymore."

Jen approaches politics through the lens of someone who knows what it feels like to live a contested existence. "Like you're behind a wall," she said. She's in a relationship with someone who she describes as apolitical, but who shares many of the human rights values that Jen finds most important.

Kearns says basic respect is a non-negotiable for navigating politically diverse relationships. "If you're someone who feels like your identity is being threatened and people aren't respecting you in specific ways, then maybe that problem is bigger than the relationship," she says. "At that point, there's something about protecting yourself."

There is still room for healthy disagreement, Jen said, but there has to be a line of not only basic respect and acceptance, but support.

"Obviously if my girlfriend voted for someone who didn't support gay marriage, that would be a problem," she said. "But if she voted Republican because she thinks it would help the taxes then sure, why not. That doesn't bother me. As long as she agrees that everyone should be free to be who they are and love who they want, then I'm okay."

For Jen and for many others, the lines drawn by political beliefs aren't just about policy -- they can define the very core of who gets to feel safe, respected, and loved.

"You can't love me and not respect me, or vote for someone who doesn't respect me," she says. "At the end of the day if I can't be who I am without fear, the rest doesn't really matter."

In the end, for people like Derrick, Evelyn and Jen, political differences remain a part of daily life. But they are not the defining force. Moments of tension and disagreement persist, sometimes pushed to the forefront by events no one can ignore, yet respect and care endure as the foundation of lasting relationships. Their stories show that while divisions may run deep, a willingness to listen, to find common ground, and to affirm each other's dignity is what allows families and friendships to weather even the hardest conversations -- those respectful disagreements are what democracy is built on.

"Our country is really held up by our relationships," Gabbi Kearns says. "I mean, that's really what democracy is. It's like, a bunch of people kind of agreeing to a set of principles. We're all bought into it together."