Don't go all doomsday on us, here. We need you present, clear-headed. The snake oil is thick on the ground, but you're wearing your kick-ass Doc Martins (you dug them out of 1999 and, of course, they still look intimidating as hell and fit you perfectly) and you're ready to roll.
Not in violence, no, never in violence, but to stand your ground. To open your mouth.
There is nothing more powerful than an immobile soul speaking her truth.