I was silent for two long years about that day. On a sunny afternoon during the summer before I came to WSU, I was sexually assaulted by an acquaintance. I am sure it did not last long, but it felt as if I might never escape. The pain, fear and guilt followed me even as I tried incredibly hard to pretend it never happened.

I went on with my life and moved to college, but that day hung over me like a dark shadow lurking in the edges of my consciousness. It reared its ugly head when I found out I had a class with the man who did it. The rising panic had to be quelled every day.

I made it through that class. And I made it through all the catcalling on the street. I made it through the night when I had to push a fraternity man out of the doorway of my dorm room, because he would not accept no for an answer when he request to spend the night. I made it through the slut shaming comments I grew up with, because of the clothes I chose to wear. I made it through the agonizing minutes when a stranger groped me on the subway in Los Angeles. I did report it that time, and after going through four people by phone and one highly insensitive officer in person, I found out that the man who groped me had done the same thing to other women.

The point is, I could go on. Because it is never just one incident, but rather something many people deal with on a nearly daily basis. When I read the stories about Harvey Weinstein, it sounded all too familiar, and my heart broke for those women. But, my heart also broke for all the people who could not come forward, for those without a support system or access to resources, for those who suffer in silence. My reaction was fitting: Me too.

I saw the phrase hundreds of times on Sunday alone — harrowing stories of abuse, harassment and assault. It amazed me that two little words could bring so much into the light. I was proud of every single person that came forward, as well as those who could not, because I know how scary it is to talk about these issues in the open.

As a student and a leader for sexual assault prevention and education on campus, I know the statistics. One in 5 women and 1 in 16 men. And according to the Rape, Abuse, & Incest National Network, men are more likely to be assaulted than to be falsely accused of being an assailant. LGBTQ people face higher rates of sexual violence than straight people, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention’s National Intimate Partner and Sexual Violence Survey.

The #MeToo movement accomplished what it was created to do — raise awareness about the prevalence of sexual violence. But, awareness is null without action. Right now, we have a president in the White House who bragged about groping women on tape. On college campuses, the protections put in place by the Obama administration’s 2011 “Dear Colleague” letter have been rescinded. It is all to say that this is a systemic issue that infects the halls of government institutions, plush Hollywood offices, giant corporations, college campuses and nearly every other stratification of society.

Sexual violence happens every day, and on this campus there are many ways to help combat the issue. Get involved with groups like Alternatives to Violence of the Palouse, know what resources are available and most importantly, speak out when you see people harassing others. A passing comment may seem harmless, but there is a direct line between behavior such as catcalling and assault.

And finally, believe those who experience sexual violence.

The #MeToo movement is revolutionary because it dismantles the culture of silence burying the survivors of sexual violence, and that is revolutionary. But, the burden cannot lie on survivors to constantly remain visible enough to stir change. Everyone has a part in creating a culture where we no longer need millions of survivors to scream and fight in order to be seen.