By Taylor Allyn
July 12, 2025
mar·tyr /ˈmärdər/
noun
a person who voluntarily suffers death as the penalty of witnessing to and refusing to renounce a religion.
a person who sacrifices something of great value and especially life itself for the sake of principle.
— Merriam-Webster
I didn’t go to the march.
I stood in the bathroom instead, towel still clinging to my shoulders, skin still damp from the day. I looked at my own face like it had just come back from somewhere.
Not angry. Not numb. Just—done.
The kind of done that doesn’t need to explain itself. The kind of done that’s earned.
I remember thinking: This body has already done enough.
It’s shown up when it wasn’t safe.
Spoken when it wasn’t wise.
Stood up when it was already tired.
It has buried kin, carried protest signs, sat through news cycles that dissected my dignity like it was open source.
And yet here I was, still expected to be visible. Vocal. Useful.
But that day, I let the mirror be the only witness.
Because a martyred Black body is easier to rally behind than a free one.
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