Women’s March, or Baby’s First Protest

Saturday was pretty fucking amazing, I’m not gonna lie. Being one of so many, both in Philly and around the world, out marching, being seen and heard…helped lift that weight I’ve felt since election night, for a few hours at least.

I’m an introvert. As one sign that’s making the rounds basically said, you know shit’s bad when you get the introverts out marching. I’m happiest in my own company or in that of very small groups. Being around too many people can quickly set me on edge–especially if I haven’t eaten enough protein/food. I’m not a joiner–although, if you get me out, I have no problem getting my hands dirty; it’s just that first step and don’t make me engage too much; I like being on the stage crew and supporting cast, not the lead. I don’t start speaking my mind or speaking out until I’m comfortable somewhere. I don’t mingle. At parties, I like a nice, quiet corner and for people to come to me, if they so choose; otherwise, I’m happy just people watching. So, yeah, Saturday was a big deal for me, going out, marching, even holding a sign. Of course, it helped that I had my closest friends by my side. 🙂

The speeches in Philly were a mixed bag, and I don’t really go in for songs or cheers, but for me, just being there was what mattered. The diversity of the crowd and issues that brought us all together, I think that was the biggest strength of the whole thing. We all come from different places, have different experiences based on our beliefs, our gender, the color of our skin, or sexuality, our education, etc., but that doesn’t keep us from coming together, to support each other. I am not alone in this. You are not alone in this. I am here for you and you are here for me and we are here together. And I am the walrus. (Sorry, it was getting a bit fluffy there, I needed to throw in a joke, however flat).

That’s the biggest takeaway from Saturday, for me. We are not alone in this, fighting back against oppression and hate and the darkness. We have each other. It’s one thing to say it. But to actually see it, be a part of it, yeah.

Like I said on Twitter Saturday night, it’s going to be a long, rough road, but hope has become a tangible thing.

Now, if I can just manage to knit my damn pussy hat. Looks like it’s going take a third attempt. I do believe there’s a metaphor in that

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