Last night, I stood outside, passing out flyers, with my truth, and my resolve. It wasn’t just another evening—it was a moment of action, empowerment, and solidarity. For too long, I’ve felt the weight of my own story, of my own truth, and I know I am not alone. This protest wasn’t just for me—it was for every survivor who has ever been silenced, ignored, or dismissed. And, to my joy and relief, it was a success.
The evening was filled with moments of connection. Most people who passed by were compassionate, curious, and engaged. They asked questions, they listened, and many expressed their support. It reminded me of something important: while there may be ignorance in the world, there is also understanding, empathy, and a willingness to learn.
Of course, not everyone approached with kindness. A few people were dismissive, even arrogant, but they were the minority. And while their reactions might have stung in the moment, they were also a reminder of why this work is so necessary. Change doesn’t happen by staying quiet. It happens when we refuse to back down, even in the face of opposition.
Protests like this are not just about the people passing by—they are about reclaiming our power. They’re about standing up and saying, “I will not be silenced. I will not be erased. My story matters.” And last night, I felt the power of using my voice in a way I hadn’t felt in a long time.
To my fellow survivors: I want you to know that your voice matters. Protests, whether large or small, are a tool we can use to reclaim our narratives and demand accountability. They are a way to show the world that we are not alone and that we refuse to be ignored.
So, I encourage you: if you feel called to stand up, do it. Hold your sign. Speak your truth. Use your rights while you still can. Because every time we speak out, we chip away at the silence that predators and oppressors rely on. Every time we take action, we inspire someone else to do the same.
Last night’s protest reminded me that change is possible, and it starts with us. It starts with survivors refusing to stay silent and reclaiming our power, one step, one flyer, and one moment at a time.
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