“Spineless feminism” and “political passivity” are some of the phrases Taylor Swift’s critics used this week, after Time revealed “The Silence Breakers” as its Person of the Year. In the back right corner of the issue’s cover, Swift leans against a wall, joined by Ashley Judd, another familiar face. But the other women that share the cover aren’t familiar—in fact, there’s even a partial shot of a woman’s elbow, which was done intentionally to represent the anonymous women who came forward to Time. And yet, as with everything Taylor Swift touches, a social media firestorm was ignited at the proclamation that the star was a Silence Breaker.

Lots of people, including influential journalists, reviled the singer, making outrageous claims that Time only used her to sell magazines, or suggesting that Swift’s experiences with sexual harassment were somehow less important than others’. But the dissecting and ranking of people’s experiences with sexual harassment and abuse is alarming, as is the discussion of which victim “deserve” a cover spot. Any woman who has been sexually harassed or abused “deserves” that spot, and newsflash, none of these women wanted to be sexually harassed in the first place.

Knocking Taylor Swift has become a sport in America, often for reasons that are relatively harmless—her feud with the Kardashian-Wests, her dancing, her music. But, we’ve also taken to calling her out for missteps that hold more gravitas. The overwhelming issue feminists take with Swift surrounds her inaction on social issues. Yes, the pop star was silent during the 2016 election. No, she didn’t publicly use the #MeToo hashtag on Twitter to support her sisters in arms. Many felt it was her duty on both counts to stand up for women and pick a side—makes sense when you’re someone with a platform as massive as hers —but she is, first and foremost, a pop singer. Throwing her hat into the activism ring shouldn’t be required.

But the thing is, she did. Time included Taylor as a Silence Breaker because she was one. Earlier this year, DJ David Mueller sued Swift for defamation of character. Swift claimed he reached under her skirt at a public meet and greet and grabbed her ass—and there is photo evidence to support it. To prove a point that predatory men can’t get away with harassment anymore, Swift counter-sued him for a comical, petty price of one dollar. She won the case, and gave a notoriously fierce testimony, of which she commented, “I’m told it was the most amount of times the word ‘ass’ has ever been said in Colorado Federal Court.” So while her critics censured Swift for her lack of participation in the #MeToo social campaign, in this case, her actions spoke louder than words.

Plus, as if suing her harasser and winning wasn’t enough, the move itself was impactful. The Rape, Abuse & Incest National Network (RAINN) saw a 35 percent increase of phone calls in the weekend following Swift’s trial alone. She wanted to send a message to young women and men that we should stand up to predators, and it worked. She told Time, “I figured that if he would be brazen enough to assault me under these risky circumstances and high stakes, imagine what he might do to a vulnerable, young artist if given the chance.” While Swift is unfathomably privileged, she did exactly what someone with that kind of power should do: she used her it to usher in positive change, even if she chose not to follow it up with a hashtag.

And let’s not forget that last year Swift donated $250,000 to Kesha to help with her financial fees after being denied an injunction in her lawsuit against Dr. Luke, and did so quietly. This move had no impact on her career, and she had no reason to insert herself into that headline. When Swift went through with the counter-suit, she also had no reason to bolster her image. Plus, the entire lawsuit took place before the Harvey Weinstein report went public, and before the massive second wave of #MeToo (the original movement was started by Tarana Burke in 2007).

No matter how rich or famous someone is, suggesting that a woman came forward about sexual assault for attention is revolting. Being harassed or assaulted is traumatic, and the added stress of coming forward doesn’t alleviate that, it intensifies it. Research shows that reporting sexual harassment can actually worsen one’s job, psychological and health outcomes. One of the main reasons women don’t come forward is fear of a negative response or further harassment, which Taylor proved is a valid fear. The bravery it takes someone to come forward at all—let alone a woman who knew she would be crucified for “attention-seeking,” is hard to imagine. Money and privilege don’t make any person’s body public property.

Ranking which victims’ circumstances are worse or “deserving” of media attention has to stop. Regardless of your opinions on Taylor Swift as a musician or celebrity, it’s imperative we view her trauma objectively. While Swift often shies away from social issues, she hasn’t done anything wrong. No survivor owes the public his or her story, and Swift should be commended for sharing hers, end of story.

Jill Gutowitz is an LA-based writer who has written for VICE, Broadly, Teen Vogue, AwesomenessTV, Dame Magazine, and more. Follow her on Twitter @jillboard.

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