A couple weeks before Christmas my husband Reed and I parked our car across town and took a stroll. It was one of those nice days right before Christmas and before the below freezing temperatures that forced everyone into hibernation. We were revelling in the warmth as we walked about looking at houses, dreaming about the day we’ll own one ourselves. It was in the midst of this nice day, this nice walk, this nice dreaming with my hubby, that a car drove by, about a half a block away and shouted out the window “Fags!” And drove away. It happened so quickly and they were so far away that it took a couple seconds for me to even process what happened.

We weren’t holding hands. We weren’t walking so that we were touching. How did they know? Should we walk further apart from each other so they don’t come back and harass us? Or worse? Why did it feel so threatening when they were so far away? These were the things that immediately ran through my head. I felt immediately conscious of my body language, of how I was in relation to my husband walking along the side of the road. One single word shouted from halfway down the street made me angry and afraid all in a millisecond.

About a block or two later, Reed grabbed my hand and we held hands for a while. It felt daunting and hard. It felt courageous. Holding hands with my spouse felt courageous. Doesn’t that sound silly? But that’s what hate can do to us. It can force us back into ourselves, into the closets we hide ourselves, into the corners of our minds. It can make us rethink that which we thought was safe. A single word can cause a torrent of emotions and thoughts and wondering if this place really is as great as you thought it was. Hate induces fear. And when love and courage are not chosen responses, fear simply breeds more hate. It’s a vicious cycle.

It’s when we decide to hold hands in the face of fear that courage is born. It’s when we decide to hold hands in the face of hate that love wins. It’s when we decide to show up and march for women everywhere that love trumps hate. It’s when we decide to listen to our black and brown neighbors and their experiences in our towns and cities and country that empathy and courage win. It’s when we welcome the stranger, the immigrant into our land and our backyard that courage and peace win out. When we choose courage in the face of fear, the world cannot stop us. Courage and love are far stronger allies than fear and hate ever will be.