"I was there."

I know someday I will get to say that when my kid comes home and says that that day in class they learned about the Moms that stormed the capitol building on August 3rd, 2019 in protest of the inaction and gun violence that causes 100 people to die every day.

Because that day will go down in the history books as the day the world finally listened to an era of people shouting enough.

But see the truth is I wasn't really there. I was a few miles away, and in the city, sure, but while the incredible people I had been in a Gun Sense University Conference with were saying the words my brain was desperately repeating, I was in bed.

Why? Because sometimes enough means more than enough gun violence. It means enough of this endless mental turmoil it puts us through, and that night, that mental turmoil had simply gotten the better of me.

And I cried. I cried as I thought about the ten people that died in Dayton, the other 22 in El Paso and many more injured out of sheer hatred and anger.

I cried as I thought about all the lives ruined from directly being victims, and all the families who have loved ones gone or never the same.

I cried for my life. My life which has become paying attention to every fucking shooting, daily gun violence and otherwise to make sure it isn't someone I know because the part they don't tell you about is when you start to care you end up with more people to care about because they share your passion to end it, and their stories always hit home.

My life and others which automatically walk into a building and note where the closest exits are so that if next it's us maybe we'll have a chance. That have grown up with active shooter drills that people I know don't even take seriously because "it won't happen to us" but how dare you forget that it did?

How dare you forget that just one year ago we sat in our locked classroom shaking and frantically texting those we knew at CMU to make sure they were ok because there was a gunman and he was there and then supposed to be coming our way?

I remember. I remember that I was scared for my life and the lives of my loved ones and I remember, no, I know, that just like last spring when my brother texted us and told us that they were on lockdown and no one knew why, I will always be terrified now.

Because I know the truth. Those Moms that were marching two miles away from me at the captiol building have finally almost made the change with the power of an era of fighting behind them, but almost is the key word. Because Congress still hasn't passed the laws.

And so, I will always be terrified.

Thank you.