Truth & Advocacy By Calvin-Lee Hardie – Inverness

Some days, I wonder what difference it makes.

After all the noise.

After the reactions.

After the silence that followed when I started telling the truth — not the version they spread, but the one I had to live.

What does one more post really change?

But then I remember:

For a long time, my voice wasn’t just missing — it was overwritten.

And now that I’ve found it again, I have a responsibility. Not just to myself, but to the people who are going through the same thing and don’t know where to begin.

I still speak because the damage wasn’t just done in a moment — it was done across months, platforms, pages, and posts.

And recovery isn’t a single post. It’s repetition.

Rebuilding.

Reasserting.

Every time I speak, I’m refusing to be the version they were more comfortable with.

Every post is another reminder: I’m not going to fade quietly so someone else’s version can live louder.

I still speak because I’ve learned that most people won’t fight for your truth — especially when it’s messy, uncomfortable, or contradicts a headline they already believed.

And so I do it anyway.

I write for the record.

I write for the people watching quietly.

I write for the ones who were erased, like I was — and never got the chance to come back from it.

I still speak, even when they roll their eyes.

Even when they mock it.

Even when they pretend they’ve moved on but still refresh my profile every day.

Because truth isn’t always about proving them wrong.

Sometimes it’s just about proving to yourself that you’re not gone, no matter how hard they tried to write you out.

And if I’m still here, I’ll still speak.

— Calvin-Lee H