Two years into the Trump presidency, I can’t count the number of times I’ve been told to call my senators. But my senators from Kentucky, Mitch McConnell and Rand Paul, have consistently refused to defend my health and reproductive rights. My calls and visits to their office in the past have yielded little more than a canned thank-you email or a staffer-delivered statement that “the senator is pro-life.” But after Trump’s nomination of Judge Brett Kavanaugh to the Supreme Court—potentially the most dangerous move Trump has made in his presidency—I knew I had to find a way to take action.

The potential consequences of Kavanaugh’s confirmation include denial of health insurance to people with pre-existing conditions, loss of contraceptive coverage under a religious employer, and loss of abortion access in dozens of states. Kavanaugh’s record on the U.S. Court of Appeals for the D.C. Circuit has made his potential decisions on these issues clear. In 2015, for example, Kavanaugh dissented in a decision by the D.C. Circuit upholding the Obama administration’s contraception mandate in the Affordable Care Act. Kavanaugh wrote that employers should be granted the ability to deny women access to birth control coverage without co-pay. What’s more, just last year, in the now-infamous Jane Doe case, Kavanaugh attempted to block an undocumented pregnant 17-year-old in immigration detention from receiving an abortion. Trump promised to nominate “pro-life” Supreme Court justices who would overturn Roe v. Wade. Kavanaugh is the fulfillment of that promise.

Sure enough, my senators’ reactions to the nomination reflected their continued unwillingness to defend my rights and interests. McConnell instantly pledged his support for Kavanaugh and proclaimed himself a champion for Kavanaugh’s confirmation. While Paul initially claimed to have serious concerns about Kavanaugh, he quickly changed his tune and announced that he would support the judge before confirmation hearings even began. I didn’t even have an opportunity to voice my opinion to my senators before they made their positions clear.

Instead, I turned my attention to senators who may be receptive. Sens. Lisa Murkowski (R-AK) and Susan Collins (R-ME) garnered national attention last year for blocking the repeal of the Affordable Care Act and protecting the health care of millions across the country. With these rights at stake again, and considering their claims to be pro-choice, I hoped that they would make a similar commitment this time.

I’ve never considered myself much of a politico. I’ve never prided myself on knowing senators’ schedules, Washington-insider gossip, or anticipating votes. The thought of trekking to Capitol Hill nearly every day—before work, no less—was not exactly thrilling. But for the past month, I’ve been visiting the Hill every day the Senate is in session to ask Sens. Collins and Murkowski to meet with me about Kavanaugh.

Every day, I’ve explained to staffers why Kavanaugh would be dangerous for young people like me and asked for a meeting with the senator. Every day, they’ve responded with reactions ranging from blank stares, to kind smiles, to blatant interruptions telling me that they don’t have control over the senator’s schedule.

I recruited friends to join me in my endeavor. Many, like me, are represented by senators who consistently vote to deny them reproductive rights and health-care access. I started a social media campaign using the hashtag #MeetWithUs to broadcast our efforts and attempt to appeal to Senators over social media. Since we started visiting the Hill, we have collectively requested nearly 100 meetings.

Every single meeting request has been denied.

To many, especially those with the inside scoop on how Capitol Hill operates, these consistent denials likely aren’t surprising. I’m not a constituent, so why should I expect senators who don’t represent me to agree to meet with me? Last week, I shared a video from outside Senator Collins’ office while she met with Kavanaugh, calling on her to meet with me after denying my requests for nearly a month. A fellow Georgetown student replied asking if I was a constituent. When I said no, they told me that it was “unrealistic” to expect senators to take meetings with non-constituents.

I may be young, but I’m not naive. I understand how meeting requests work. I know that not being a constituent makes getting a meeting significantly more difficult, if not impossible. I know that the staffers I speak with most days don’t have much control over the senator’s schedule. But the fact is that this is the platform I have found to make my voice heard. This is my only option. And regardless of where I am from, the actions of Collins and Murkowski will directly affect me, and millions of young people like me.

In my home state of Kentucky, abortion access is already extremely limited. Kentucky is one of six states  with only one standalone abortion clinic remaining: the EMW Women’s Surgical Center in Louisville. If I wanted an abortion while living in Lexington, where I grew up, I would first have to drive over an hour to Louisville and endure state-directed counseling, which includes information used to discourage me from having an abortion. After that, I would have to wait for 24 hours before I could obtain the procedure, so I would either have to drive back home to Lexington and come back the next day or pay for a night in a Louisville hotel. In some parts of the state, this journey to Louisville and back would take more than four hours each way.

If Kavanaugh is confirmed, these barriers could become even more severe for Kentucky. Republican Gov. Matt Bevin has repeatedly proven his staunch anti-choice stance. He has signed into law a 20-week abortion ban, as well as an ultrasound requirement forcing people seeking an abortion to view fetus images and listen to heartbeats before having the procedure. Bevin also signed into law a bill banning a common abortion method after 11 weeks of gestation. The ultrasound requirement was struck down by a federal judge in 2017, but was under appeal as of July 2018—an appeal that could ultimately reach Kavanaugh if he is confirmed to the Supreme Court. Moreover, the Kentucky state legislature consistently votes to restrict Kentuckians’ access to abortion care they need, like when 31 of 36 state senators voted in favor of the aforementioned 11-week ban. It is clear then, that if Roe is overturned, abortion access in Kentucky—and across the country—will become far worse.

So, let’s reclaim the narrative. Ultimately, this nomination is about how Kavanaugh’s rulings will affect people all over the country, and young people in particular. Every senator, including Collins and Murkowski, must recognize that. This nomination will affect young people who may need to seek abortion care, young people who use contraception, young people who have pre-existing conditions, young people who are queer, young people who want to exercise their right to vote, young people who may be victims of gun violence in their communities or schools, young people who are immigrants, and more. It will affect residents of Maine and Alaska, but also residents of the 48 other states in this country. It’s time that our voices are heard loud and clear, even when the politicians elected to represent us don’t want to listen.