Women across the world are posting the following on their Facebook statuses:

"Me too.

If everyone who has been sexually harassed or assaulted wrote 'me too' as a status, we might give people a sense of the magnitude of the problem.

#metoo #stopthesilence

please copy/paste."

I read it.  I copied, I pasted.  I didn’t post.

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Slight hesitation, hovering over my clickpad.  Which shocked me.  Appalled me a bit.  Fascinated me, prompting me to open up a Word doc and figure out why this pause, however brief.  What was I scared of?  Why on Earth was I second-guessing my (very ‘slacktivist,’ I give myself no real activist credit here, especially considering this inability to post with confidence) expression of solidarity, if not shared experience?  Just yesterday I had expressed to a friend how I couldn’t believe it took so long for the disgusting Harvey Weinstein accusations to surface.

I realized a variety of things.

I realized I had written off whatever sexual misdemeanors that have happened to me over the years as unimportant, the results of the stupidity and grossness of men, the existence of which I accepted as a fact of life—an idea perpetuated by my friend’s comment about the status: ‘literally my reaction to this campaign was "but isn't this just all women?"’

It may be all women who suffer this issue—so many amazing females close to me have suffered—but we’re not always vocal about it.  It’s easy to get complacent.  I don’t often revisit the sexual harassment experiences, a fact that I felt lucky for.  This is not okay.  I shouldn’t feel lucky that I haven’t been bruised forever by horny people with no sense of boundary.

But I adopted a state of denial so as not to feel sad or let these men dull my shine.  

I also realized, before I posted, that I felt stigma.  I felt like people—Facebook friends, friends, ex boyfriends, new crushes, family—would see me differently, see me like damaged goods.

Which is a problem.

We have to—we all have to—speak up.  No matter what your experience with sexual harassment or assault.  Not a single experience should be kept in silence.  I’m including supermodel Cara Delevingne's words on a recent Instagram post, in which she broke her silence about her experience with Weinstein, and which I found powerful and urgent:

‘I want women and girls to know that being harassed or abused or raped is NEVER their fault and not talking about it will always cause more damage than speaking the truth.  I am relieved to be able to share this…I actually feel better and I’m proud of women who are brave enough to speak…this isn’t easy but there is strength in numbers.  As I said, this is only the beginning[…]The more we talk about it, the less power we give [men].  I urge you all to talk…’

Fear and silence is why Mr. Weinstein (who hardly deserves a formal title, who ideally should now be referred to as Harvey the Scumbag) got away with his behavior for so long.

I had written off whatever sexual misdemeanors that have happened to me over the years as unimportant.

Girls, speak out about being groped in a crowded subway.  Kissed by a stranger without warning, or even after you said no.  Told that your pants are too tight by random men at the bar.  Abused by boys who then told you were a lesser woman for engaging in sexual activity in the first place.

In a silent Facebook post, in a quiet conversation, in a column written and shared online.  Eventually we’ll develop the voice to yell, to speak out without fear.

Nothing should be written off.

I posted.  Will you?

Anne Whiting is a fashion designer and writer in New York. She is the creative director of sustainable womenswear brand Anne James New York and the author of the blog An Inconvenient Wardrobe.