Happy Spring!

Here we are, in the midst of a pandemic and I'm one vaccine in with my second dose on deck in two days. What a year we have had...Am I right? 

It's my birthday month, and I'll be 49-years-old. It's hard to say we "lost" a year, but it really feels like it in many ways. 

But, we've also gained so much. In this time, I've become more creative and written more than I have in some time. 

We also elected a new president, and I can't express how much joy and relief I am experiencing. As an empath, I felt the pain and distress of our collective consciousness for four LONG years. Coming out of it, there is some residual stress. We are not out of this space but there is hope, and that is comforting. 

This morning, I read a friend's post on FB. It was a 100 word flash memoir, and I submitted a short piece. Who knows if it will be published, but it always feels good to get my creative juices flowing, even if the writing is difficult. Difficult in the sense of the topic, not so much the crafting. 

But, it brings me to this. 

I watched a movie on Saturday called "Never, Rarely, Sometimes, Always."

It was about a 17-year-old seeking an abortion. I'd seen an interview with writer/director Eliza Hittman, where she discussed her perspective on making a film about the always controversial topic. She summed it up in saying that she wanted to tell a story from a woman's point of view, and how difficult it was to get a legal abortion in 2020. Most of the previous films were told from a male perspective, usually when abortion was illegal, over 50 years ago.  

So, this got me thinking. And it made me sad. It brought back memories of my own experience as a pregnant 16-year-old. Something not uncommon for many of us. And, I refuse to feel shame for it. Not anymore. 

The stigma attached still holds true. Words like slut, whore, loose, cheap...they are still tossed around casually, always with blame placed on the woman or girl. Never the man...And, men seem to be the most vocal about regulating women's reproductive rights. 

Who's responsible? The answer is never simple. The complicated history of any relationship, experience or lapse in judgment could result in an unwanted pregnancy. The key word here is "unwanted." And, does it really matter, anyway? Again...complicated. 

In my case, I was with a much older man and I felt pressure to please him; to have sex even though I didn't want to, because I thought it was what I had to do, as if I had no choice in the matter. And in many ways, I didn't. 

When I got pregnant I broke up with him, never telling him the truth because I feared him. I did. I was afraid of so many things and having a baby with a man I feared wasn't going to happen. I knew that much.

My story is different because I was incredibly lucky to have two supportive parents who honored my decision to terminate my pregnancy. I know it was hard for them, and I will always be grateful they were in my corner without judgment. 

That's not the case for many teenagers who find themselves in the same predicament. 

The movie had me reeling, going back 32 years to a place of confusion, sadness, and grief. 

The thing is...I knew better. I wasn't a virgin when this happened. In fact, I had been on birth control, but stopped taking it because I DIDN'T want to have sex with anyone after I broke up with a previous long-term boyfriend. 

Instead, I quickly found myself in a new relationship with this older man. I didn't ask him to wear a condom, and he didn't offer. 

I have been in therapy for many years, and I've worked through this issue. But, the memory is always there. And when I watch a film like this, it resurfaces and reminds me of the time in my life that was so messy and depressing. 

In the aftermath, I struggled with my identity and my purpose, wandering through my life aimlessly, still making poor decisions for many years. Having an abortion wasn't one of them. 

I wasn't ready to be a mother then, at almost seventeen. 

I wasn't ready to be tied to a man who was dangerous and controlling. 

I wasn't ready. 

There are people who will call me a baby killer, and scream I'm heading straight to the bowels of hell for fiery eternal damnation...it's a good thing I'm agnostic and don't believe in that crap. Those are also the same people who think blowing up abortion clinics is doing "God's work." 

The hypocrisy, astounding. Go figure. 

I'm opening up this conversation because for far too long, we've been shamed. 

Women. 

Girls. 

We've been shamed and told it's our fault. How we dress. What we say. We are temptresses. How dare we "tease." We were asking for it...

Enough. Enough. Enough.

This decision was not easy, but it was the clear choice. I will not speak for other women, but I can safely postulate choosing an abortion wasn't easy for them either. 

This subject is hot, it's controversial. I get that. I've never shied away from my truth. I've always tried to be honest in hopes that my story will give some comfort to those who aren't so open to share. I get it. We all have our reasons.

I've always maintained that living in this truth, this honest space, isn't easy, but it's the only way I can live. It isn't for everyone...and that's okay. 

Do I regret having an abortion at sixteen? No. What I wish is that I never had to make that choice. That I had been strong enough to say no. That I had used birth control. That I had a different vision of my sexuality then. That I understood relationships and men better. That I wasn't so hell bent on growing up so fast. That I had paused. That I understood my value and my worth. That I didn't equate that value with how many men found me attractive, loved me, wanted me...

I knew the power I had, I just didn't know how to harness it. I knew from a very young age how men saw me. It started with comments like "you're going to be so pretty when you're grown up." I wish I hadn't put so much stock in those words, because for a long time, I let that define me. 

So here I am, nearly 49-years-old. I'm looking at life through a very different lens. Even as I write this, it is with some caution. Because, if I put this out there I open myself up for a myriad of responses. 

Judgment comes in many forms. Usually, projection is the leading force. If you're still with me and reading this, here's what I ask: 

Sit with this for a minute. If you've never experienced an unwanted pregnancy, sit with the idea. Pause and just imagine what that might feel like. The internal struggle. The loneliness. The pain. It's all right there.

Growth, understanding, and change happen in that space of discomfort. It hurts. It feels unpleasant. But, it's necessary in order to begin to alter the way we think about anything, really. Abortion is just one of the difficult issues we must confront. 

A wise woman (my dear sister) once told me "Everyone has a story." If we can pause long enough to remember that instead of having knee-jerk reactions, we can start the process of acceptance, understanding and love WITHOUT judgment.

There is light as we move through a pandemic that has left us all beyond fatigued. 

We are spent. 

With Spring upon us, we have a renewed sense of hope. Let's use this awakening as a moment to reflect on the past, and come into the future with forgiveness and love. 

Let empathy and kindness guide us. 

Leave judgment behind and let love be the force with which we connect.