I am not my abortion.

by Anonymous

September 20, 2019

A friend of mine who suffers from a chronic illness just went on a podcast and talked about how you can’t feel supported if you don’t let people in on your suffering. It’s a viscous cycle of isolating yourself for fear of rejection or whatever and then feeling isolated from your self-imposed isolation. I only told like, 3 people about my abortion, initially. Slowly, that number grew. I had to vet these people, make sure they’d still love me afterwards (wine helped). Every person has had a different reaction – some wanting to know the details (No, like HOW early were you?), others content with whatever I wanted to offer up. But every single one of them has been supportive. I’m at a point now where it feels disingenuous to exclude my abortion as part of my “do you wanna have kids” story. At the time, I felt so ashamed. It’s that thing about secrets – the harder you shove it down, the more it takes over your life. My abortion isn’t my defining moment. And when I told myself that in my deepest, darkest moments of shame I only *kind of* believed it. It’s only now that I’ve begun to tell people I see on a regular basis/haven’t known my whole life that it seems smaller, less shameful, less scary. Last week after buy one get one margaritas, I was soothing my friend’s month old baby in the backseat of her car, talking about her babies – and when I blurted out “I had an abortion” she had my favorite response. “I wish I had known. I wish I could have been there for you in that moment.”

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