On Saturday, January 21, 2017, I marched on Washington D.C. with around 500,000 fellow human beings. I drove down on Friday with two cars full of friends, surrounded by thousands of others all headed down to protest. The solidarity started early, and it lasted.

I marched because this is not normal. Because Trump is a dangerous, narcissistic sociopath. Because listening to his swearing in over the radio as we drove in felt eerily like the end of days.

But I also marched because that day was about more than Trump. It was about being part of something positive.

I marched because sisterhood is important.

I marched because I needed to spend that day reminding myself and others that there is goodness and there are good people in this world. People who are down to fight.

I marched because I know too many strong and inspiring women that have been sexually assaulted.

I marched because violence against women is real and often goes unspoken and unprosecuted.

I marched because black women deserve a voice, respect, and recognition. Because they and their families deserve justice and freedom.

I marched because human beings are not illegal.

I marched because trans women are women. Period.

I marched because women are amazing. All women.

And perhaps most importantly, I marched because I knew that it would galvanize me to engage in deeper and more consistent activism. I refuse to be someone who marches one day and walks away from the movement the next. I refuse to be someone who only shares Facebook articles and Tumblr posts, acting like that's enough.

Donald Trump, welcome to your first day. We will not go away.