To those who say our lives won’t be different post-election? Our lives already are different. We have lost family. We have a heightened fear of coming out or staying out. We are facing elected officials and members of their transition team who have said clearly and repeatedly that we should not be entitled to basic human rights.

To those who counter our fears by saying that words are not the same as actions? Words fuel action. Words incite action. If a person in a position of power has expressed that women are pigs, that Muslims should be sent out of our country, that disabled people are to be used as a joke, others in our country hear that message loud and clear. Even in the impossible scenario that the person speaking those words weren’t to ever act on them, those words have already acted as a catalyst for the actions of millions of others. Words are powerful.

It is also possible that those who say we are overreacting are afraid of what our reactions might mean, what they might do. This is where the truth lives, because often sadness and fear mix together to form a rage rising up inside of us — a rage that we can harness, collectively, to demand better.

“Is there a place for collective anger going forward? Or should we try to put that aside to keep calm and loving?”

Looking back on the past 10 years of my activism, I can say that my biggest approach has always one of “keeping calm and loving.” I have long been the kind of person who doesn’t want others to have to feel uncomfortable, and who holds tight to common ground as a bridge between differences. When my wife and I got engaged, I wrote my religious extended family members a letter that essentially helped them to feel less guilt and shame about making the choice to not attend my wedding. I felt our presence would help them slowly come to understand us as people, instead of words, stereotypes, or worse: people who did not deserve the same rights as they did.

I advised the young people who would ask me about similar situations to take care of themselves, and to — as much as they were able — also have patience and love for those in their life who could not yet understand.

This week, everything changed.

I still believe in the value of love.

I still believe in the value of patience.

I still believe in the value of kindness.

However, I no longer believe in keeping calm when others, either overtly or otherwise, participate in a process that ultimately leads to inequality. This was what I was doing, for all of those years; I valued the comfort of my loved ones more than I valued myself and more than I valued marginalized communities, and I will not do it any longer.

Yes, there is a place — an incredibly important place — for constructive anger.

Many of us have been angry about the rise in Islamophobia that began with 9/11. Many of us have been angry about the pervasive racism that we see reflected all around us in this country. Many of us have been angry about transphobia and homophobia — both nuanced and direct. However, for too long, too many of us have valued the comfort of others over giving voice to that anger.