Silent Marchers is a series of stories from real women (and men) who wanted to march in the Women’s March on Washington and various sister marches across the nation, but could not be there for a variety of reasons. These are their stories of why they weren’t there, why they wish they could have been, and why they support this cause and all that it stands for. Their hope is that you might find yourself in one of their stories, and know you’re not alone. Together, we will resist.

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Hi. I’m “Bethany.” (But not really.)

I really wanted to march in the Women’s March. I knew I couldn’t make it to Washington DC for the big march but I would have liked to march in a smaller, more local march. My reason for not marching was that I was out of town.

Sort of.

Okay, truthfully, I was glad to have an excuse not to march. Even though I feel strongly about everything the march stands for, I didn’t want to call attention to myself by participating.

Why?

Because I’m seventeen years old and I’m a lesbian.

Now, I’m not ashamed of this, don’t get me wrong. This wasn’t a choice, it’s who I am. I understand that and my parents understand that. Unfortunately, though, there are a lot of other members of my family who most definitely do not understand.

So I don’t tell them.

The older I get, the harder it gets. I have a girlfriend – let’s call her “Jessica” – and we are very much in love. My parents and my siblings know, but the rest of my family doesn’t. My grandparents and aunts and uncles are very involved in my life and I want so much to tell them who I really am – to them how much Jessica means to me – but I just can’t. They are very religious and are the biggest Trump fans you’ll ever meet. It’s so hard to sit and listen to their conversations about how gay people are abominations and how they’re “going to hell,” all the while knowing that they are talking about me.

I don’t say anything though. Inside, I’m screaming. Inside I’m telling them how wrong they are and how hurtful they are being to someone that they are supposed to love. But outside? I just stay quiet.

I don’t like confrontation. I’m a peacemaker.

Prom is coming up and Jessica and I will be going together. It’s not fair to her or to me to not go. We want to be there and to experience this rite of passage that every teenager gets to have in their life. There will be pictures of us together so I know that the time of them not knowing is running out.

Honestly, I’m scared.

Not because of what they’ll think of me. I’ve learned to be tough and know that what I think of me matters more than what others think. No, it’s not that. I think I’m just afraid of disappointing them. I’m such a good kid in every way – I never get in trouble, I get good grades, I’m kind. But I feel like none of that will matter when they find this out. Knowing that I’m gay will wipe out everything else.

And that’s not fair.

So this is why I didn’t march. I just wasn’t ready yet. But equality for all is something that I’m very passionate about and as soon as I’m ready to raise my voice, I’ll make sure that it’s loud enough for everyone to hear.

Especially the others who are like me.

My name is “Bethany.” (But not really.) And this was my Silent Marcher story.

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“I think people feel threatened by homosexuality. The problem isn’t about gay people, the problem is about the attitude towards gay people. People think that all gays are Hannibal Lecters. But gay people are sons and daughters, politicians and doctors, American heroes and daughters of American heroes.”
– Hollis Stacy