When Hurting Leads to Fighting

I was hurt.

I was hurt when people questioned why we marched, and poked fun at it, and belittled it.

I was hurt when I saw post after post pleading to end the political talk, because these issues aren't THAT big of a deal and because Facebook is "no fun these days."

I was hurt when people threatened to "unfollow" and "unfriend" if they saw one more political post while some of us were fighting with every ounce of strength for our children, for our friends, for people we may have never met.

I was hurt when I was abandoned by a privilege I was once familiar with but now no longer know as a mother of a child with special needs.

I was hurt each time I saw a marginalized group of people have their rights threatened and every time someone confided in me that they feared they were next.

And as much as I was hurt by words, I was also hurt by the deafening silence of many of my "friends" and "family."

I was hurt. Now, I'm angry. Now, I fight.