Sitting here in retrospect, scrolling through my newsfeeds as more and more notifications continue to pop up, I start to cry. I am being flooded with virtual thank you’s coming from all over the United States, and from all over the world. I had never thought that going to a small sisterhood Women’s March in Wilmington, North Carolina would mean so much to so many, or to me to be honest.

I am crying because one woman decided to make a march, because it caught on to hundreds of people, and then thousands, and then millions. I am crying because women and men alike came together to show that we are here and we are loud. I am crying because it did not matter if I was in a small town, or a huge city, as long as I was present and loud and chanting, demanding that my rights cannot be stripped down, or taken away from me.

The rally started out small, with only one or two hundred people. Some held signs and some didn’t. Some were older and some were younger. This was at 9:45 a.m., with the event set to start at 10. I was in the midst of the crowds when the first speaker started, holding my sign high and smiling because I could not believe that people had even showed up! The forecast called for rain, and being an outdoor event I was even apprehensive to show up.

By the time the woman with the microphone began a chant, there was a unanimous “Not one step back!” which was far louder than I had anticipated. That is when I glanced back and saw over one thousand people standing amongst me, with heads held high, and mouths open. We were chanting together, and we were there. My city had come through. My city was being heard. I looked around at the signs, at the outfits, at the “pussyhats”. There was so much pink and there was so much power. The speakers went on, with the crowd only growing as time elapsed, and with cheers and chants only getting louder, and picking up. 

My eyes began to well up. The woman next to me was hugging a stranger, thanking her for coming. A little girl was on her father’s shoulders holding a sign reading “We all come from the same place,” with a uterus drawn at the bottom. Another holding a “Christians for Choice,” and another saying “It’s Personal.”

Everyone was taking photographs, and listening, and really feeling. We were feeling uplifted and encouraged and together. That is when the chanting started again and brought me out of the daze that was the rally, where a small city in North Carolina, a red-state, had come together to show that we will not back down, and we will continue to fight for our rights no matter what the circumstances are. Together we are more powerful, and together we will make a difference. Not one step back.