No matter what side you’re on, or who you voted for if you think that the fear and anxiety many people are experiencing because of the US presidential election is just about winning or losing or a difference in political opinion, you’re missing the point.

In January of 2017, 10 days after Donald Trump’s inauguration, I wrote an essay entitled, “An Open Letter to Those Who Love Me, But Do Not See Me,” laying out my fears for what could happen over the next four years, and how those things would affect some people differently than others.

As a disabled woman, I wrote this essay to explain to family, friends, and even strangers how our differences in circumstance and identity meant that the decisions of this administration, and any administration for that matter, could have a vastly different impact and outcome for my life, then they would on the lives of people who are privileged in ways I am not. I wrote this essay, aware of my own privileges, but also fearful for myself, and every member of my, and any marginalized community. I wrote it because I wanted people to understand. I thought that if people really saw how politics impacts the everyday lives of others, in very real, and often frightening ways, they would better understand my objections to this new administration. Most of all, in some weird way I thought I had to explain and justify my fear and my anger, I thought I owed the world, and particularly those closest to me some kind of explanation for why I deserve the right to be my authentic self and feel like I was really a valued and respected member of society.

When I wrote this essay almost four years ago, I never imagined that we would be where we are today, sitting in the middle of a global pandemic, anxiously awaiting the results of an election that many people feel is a battle for the fate, and the very soul of our nation. I never imagined that we would still be trying to strip people of basic rights like healthcare, policing women’s rights to decide what they do with their own bodies, and arguing over whether people should have the right to marry who they love, regardless of gender and sexuality. I never imagined that I would be telling people that I fear for the future of the laws and legal precedents that let me as a disabled person live and work in my community.

These aren’t hypothetical debates, they affect real people’s lives, and they’re still up in the air. Take, for example, the fact that healthcare for millions could be at risk, or the very real possibility that landmark cases such as Roe v. Wade, and Obergefell v. Hodges could be overturned, meaning that women will no longer have guaranteed access to safe abortions, and LGBTQ people will not be guaranteed the right to marry who they love. These decisions have real impacts on real people’s lives, and we all have to acknowledge that, no matter which side of the aisle we are on. I want to be clear that this isn’t about whether you agree with abortion, same-sex marriage, or anything else for that matter. You have the right to hold whatever personal view you hold on any issue, but those views should never dictate another person’s ability to choose what to do with their body, or how to live and love authentically. That’s not what America should be about.

It’s been four years, and there are still so many people who think that my objections and concerns about the current administration are simply a matter of politics, a matter of red versus blue, and right versus left. So at the risk of losing friends, and alienating family, I decided to write about this again, but this time I’m not trying to justify my fear and anger at the state of the country, this time I’m simply speaking my truth.

If you voted differently than me, please understand that this is not about whether I will love you when this is all over. It’s about something deeper. It’s not about my personal feelings towards anyone or my personal thoughts on any political party. It’s about what freedom really means, and whether or not you should have the right to legislate other people’s existence simply because they’re different from you in some way.

This is not me telling you what you’re supposed to believe, or even who you should, or should not have voted for. This is simply me reminding you that in this game we call life, not everyone was dealt the same hand, and that means that the same policies and decisions have very different impacts for different people. It’s important to remember that people’s experiences and identities shape the way they move through the world, and the way they are affected by the decisions made by our government, and if your very way of being always seems to be up for debate, you have every right to be frustrated, and even frightened.

I’m not asking you to apologize for anything, all I’m asking you to do is remember the privileges you have that mean you do not have to worry about losing your rights and freedoms because of how other people vote. I’m asking you to acknowledge that whether or not you like it, the outcome of this election could have life-altering consequences for people who inhabit different bodies than you.

To close, I will restate something I said in my original piece, with a bit of revision:

I’m not asking you to agree with me on every issue. in fact, when it comes to things that should be voted on and up for debate, I’m not even asking you to agree with me on one.

But here’s the thing, people’s rights to live, move, and love freely, openly, safely, and authentically in the world should never, not ever, be up for debate. You shouldn’t get to vote on whether other people who live, love, and move through the world differently than you should have the same rights as you do. That’s not justice. That’s not equality. That’s not freedom. That’s oppression, and I can’t sit back quietly and let it happen, to me, or anyone else.