OP-ED

I care deeply about what’s happening in our country. It’s a statement that feels so simple yet carries the weight of my entire being. I care about the world around me because, as much as I sometimes wish I could detach, I care about people. Watching those I love—family, friends, neighbors—live in fear of what’s to come is a kind of heartbreak that words can barely capture. It pains me to see anyone, especially people I hold dear, feel uncertain about their future, wondering if their very existence will be deemed too inconvenient, too different, or too “wrong” by a society that claims to champion freedom and equality.

No one, no one, should have to live in fear of losing their rights simply for being who they are.

And yet, here we are.

We live in a time when the rights of so many—women, LGBTQ+ individuals, racial and religious minorities, immigrants, and more—are under constant attack. There is an unrelenting effort by some to strip away the fundamental liberties that allow people to live freely and authentically. These attacks are not accidental or circumstantial; they are deliberate, targeted, and cruel.

For a long time, I kept quiet. Not because I didn’t care, but because I thought my silence might be less disruptive. I thought, perhaps, that staying out of “contentious” discussions would preserve relationships or avoid conflict. I was wrong. Staying quiet didn’t help anyone; it only allowed the injustices to multiply while I pretended not to notice.

I can’t do that anymore.

I have become vocal—fiercely vocal—about protecting people’s rights, including my own. And let me be clear: this is not just about me. It’s about everyone who has ever been made to feel “less than” for daring to live as their true self. It’s about the countless people who are told their lives, identities, or choices don’t matter. It’s about those who are targeted by policies and rhetoric that aim to erase their very existence.

What infuriates me just as much as those who perpetuate this hatred are the people who stand idly by and do nothing. There are two groups I can no longer abide in my life. The first is those who actively work to harm others, stripping away rights with malice in their hearts. They wear their hatred proudly, like a badge of honor. The second, though, are the ones who simply look away. The ones who say, “Well, it doesn’t affect me, so it’s not my problem.” To them, I say: it is your problem.

When you choose not to act, when you choose to stay silent, you are choosing the side of the oppressor. You are making a decision to let hate win.

I’ve heard the excuses. “I don’t want to open a can of worms.” “It’s too divisive.” “Talking about this makes me uncomfortable.” To those people, I say: do me a favor—don’t talk to me at all. If you can’t have an honest conversation about the reality of what’s happening in this country, then we have nothing to say to each other.

I refuse to censor myself to protect your comfort. I will not bite my tongue because it’s easier for you to pretend that everything is fine. It’s not fine. Pretending otherwise doesn’t make you noble or peaceful—it makes you complicit.

This is real life. People are suffering. Lives are being destroyed. The rights we take for granted today could be gone tomorrow if we don’t act. These conversations need to happen. They are not just important; they are urgent.

I am done being the person who stays quiet to keep the peace. That person is gone, and good riddance. I will not let my voice be silenced by the fear of making others uncomfortable. The stakes are too high, the cost of inaction too great.

If you think this makes me “too much,” that’s your problem, not mine. I will not apologize for caring about the world and the people in it. I will not apologize for fighting for what’s right.

To those who feel the same, I urge you: join me. Speak up. Be loud. Refuse to let fear, apathy, or discomfort hold you back. The world doesn’t change because of those who stay silent; it changes because of those who refuse to sit down and shut up.

This is not the time for politeness or passivity. This is the time for action, for courage, for relentless advocacy. If not now, when? If not us, who?

The future is not inevitable—it is built by the choices we make today. So let’s make the choice to fight, to care, and to protect the rights of all people. Because if we don’t, who will?