Reflections of a Quiet Ally: Listening, Learning, and Supporting All Women

A horizontal cinematic image of a reflective scene of a quiet ally: a serene apartment in downtown Portland, Oregon, with warm, natural lighting streaming through a large window overlooking a park and waterway, blending urban and natural elements. A desk is visible with an open notebook and a steaming cup of tea nearby, suggesting thoughtful reflection. Outside the window, vibrant, diverse flowers and lush greenery in planter boxes stand out, symbolizing resilience and growth. The atmosphere is calm yet purposeful, with a sense of quiet dedication to listening, learning, and supporting others. The room feels inclusive and inviting, with soft, earthy tones, modern minimalist furniture, and personal details that evoke authenticity.

The first time I heard the phrase “#MeToo,” it was like a bell tolling in the distance—not close enough to shake me, but clear enough to demand my attention. I didn’t rush to share my thoughts online. I didn’t pen a grand statement of solidarity. Instead, I sat quietly and listened. That’s who I am: introverted, reserved, and often better at absorbing words than producing them. But as I listened, one story turned into hundreds, and that bell in the distance became a chorus. It was impossible to ignore. As the chorus of stories grew louder, I began reflecting on what it truly means to be a quiet, steady ally for women.

I’ve spent a lot of time reflecting on how to be an effective ally for women as I’ve strived to do throughout my life—not to center myself, but to stand beside them. How do you support without making it about you? How do you show up in a way that truly helps? For me, it starts with listening. Real listening. Not listening to respond, or to inject my own experience, but to absorb, to understand. To let the words and truths women share reshape how I think and act.

Being an ally, especially as someone introverted and reflective, isn’t about staying silent. It’s about believing all women without hesitation. It’s about speaking up when it matters, even if it feels uncomfortable. It’s about amplifying the voices that have too often been silenced. And, perhaps most importantly, it’s about staying present, even when the news moves on or the conversations quiet down. While introversion shapes how I approach allyship—through thoughtful reflection and humility—it’s not an excuse for inaction. There are moments when vocal, public advocacy is essential, and I am committed to stepping up in those moments, even when it pushes me out of my comfort zone.

This isn’t about me, and it shouldn’t be. The #MeToo Movement belongs to the women who have shared their stories, their strength, and their pain. Women have led this movement with incredible courage and resilience, and as allies, our role is to support, amplify, and stand beside them. Their voices should be at the center. But I’ve realized that allyship isn’t passive. Quiet doesn’t mean invisible, and listening doesn’t mean doing nothing. As allies, we have to be there—not to fix, but to support, to believe, to stand steady in their corner. While individual actions matter, allyship also requires challenging the systems and structures that allow harm to persist.

I’ve come to believe in the power of allyship—both quiet and vocal. It’s not loud or flashy, but it’s constant and reliable. It’s the kind of support that’s always there, even when it’s unseen. It’s the belief that small, consistent actions—listening, amplifying, reflecting—can create ripples that lead to real change, inspiring others to do the same. And when voices—quiet and loud—come together, they can form something unshakable. As men, we have a responsibility to step up—not to center ourselves, but to actively challenge harmful behaviors, support women’s leadership, and ensure their voices are heard and valued.

So here I am: quiet, introverted, but deeply committed to supporting all women. This is my promise—to listen, to learn, and to show up. To amplify women’s voices, to call out harm, and to believe their truths. To honor their strength, their courage, and their resilience. To do my part, small as it may seem, to help build a world where women’s stories are heard, valued, and acted upon.

It’s not about me. It’s about all of us stepping up to support all women who are leading this movement, working together to ensure their voices are heard, valued, and acted upon.