After a week in the mountains of Montana with very little cell or internet service, I was greeted with a rough re-entry yesterday as I read report after report of the Orlando, Florida domestic terrorist attack on the gay community, interspersed with thousands of words on the Brock Turner/Stanford rapist trial and sentencing.

My heart physically ached, both for the victims and for society at large. This is our America.

I come from a religiously conservative place and the majority of my family still clings to a “Christian” idea that The Gays are destroying families and tearing the country apart, most still have not accepted Obergefell vs. Hodges ruling legalizing gay marriage nation-wide. Some are actively campaigning to repeal that ruling and do so in the name of God, or of Family, or whatever. To be fair, some have made the leap from this narrow-minded un-Christian viewpoint to a more tolerant stance, and a very few have stepped up to the activist level of fighting for equality among hetero and homosexual humans. Very few.

Likewise, the vast majority of my family and hometown community vehemently boycotted and opposed Target and other retailers over their non-discriminatory bathroom policies, claiming knightly ideals of protecting women and children and ignoring underlying transphobia, hatred, and fear. However, nobly fighting for protections for women and children has yet to move to a place where they want to actively protect their loved ones from rapists and sexual abusers. I mean, in theory, sure, but white, heterosexual, vaguely Christian/Capitalist/clean-cut rapists are beyond their scope of imagination. You know, men like Brock Turner. So the idea of vocalizing disdain for Turner, his father, or the wrist-slap sentence is too “other” for them. Turner looks too much like the guy next door, and rapists living next door is too much to think about. But, men dressing up like women and entering bathrooms at Target to molest their daughters, THAT is super likely to happen.

I realize that not all areas or communities have this baggage in their immediate reality, but I do. And it has been so infuriating the last week or two to see the giant dichotomy between where I am and where they are, to see such blatant hate and prejudice–disguised as “protecting The Family”–flooding my social media feeds. To see dozens, yes, dozens, of people who share my genetics rant and rave about trans-friendly bathroom policies, yet say nothing about someone essentially getting away with raping an unconscious woman behind a dumpster. To see the same people invoke the morals of God to protest gay marriage, but who nonchalantly “Pray for Orlando” is making my blood boil. Sit down. What kind of “Christian” are you!? Praying for those who are hurt yet refusing to stand up and protect them in the first place is the most hypocritical kind of fuckwit. I suppose it is possible that some who protested Obgerfell vs Hodges a year ago have had a legitimate change of heart and now align more with gay rights groups and are LGBQT friendly, but I highly doubt it.

I have to sometimes force myself to stop thinking about all the ironies and inconsistencies, this pithy hashtag activism with zero action behind it, and–more often than not–using those status updates as a smoke screen for deeply held bigotry and hate, labeled “tolerance” but, in actuality, just straight up homophobia/racism/sexism. I have to force myself to close the screen and walk away from devices or I literally become so upset I begin to foam at the mouth. Ok, perhaps not literally-literally foaming, but close enough. I get agitated, my face and neck turn red, my hands start to shake, my eyes leak, and I either start pacing and yelling at no one in particular, or I get so pissed off that my words turn into grunts and definition-less exclamations of anger and frustration.

The world, ya’ll, is fucked. I see so much hate and fear, so much division and focusing on differences and opposition, and so little value placed on love and compassion, on celebrating the similarities between humankind, and allowing humans to be their own selves.

It is exhausting. I am exhausted.

I do understand that while there is this scary underbelly of fear and hate, there are also beautiful pockets of love and empathy, of genuine caring and friendship. I see both sides illustrated clearly in the current Presidential primaries, and in my (more curated) social media feeds. The friends I have made as an adult hold opinions similar to mine. The strangers I follow online are not bigoted, racist, sexist bastards. Many are activists in their own right, fighting for equality and peace, and I love and cherish them for their views and their determination to not give up the fight.

I often think of the Mr. Rogers quote about helpers, always look for the helpers, they will always be there. I see them, I see you. I see your faith in humanity, and faith that a small group of people fighting for love and tolerance and equality can create nation-wide change. I see you. And I am sorry for doubting, for allowing the ugly fears to get me down; I’m sorry for letting those statements cause despair and hopelessness.

We may be few, we activists, but we are relentless. In the end, love wins. Right? It sometimes seems like that isn’t enough, that it isn’t fast enough, that too many people will be hurt in the interim. But, like all great stories, in the end, the good will conquer evil, the love and hope will defeat fear and anger. Right? Please assure me you believe this too,  that we are not fighting in vain. That eventually  the seedy underlying fear and hate and anger will dissipate, that humans will be safe from each other regardless of their gender, race, ethnicity, religion, or anything else.

Love wins, right? Eventually, love wins.