I am not weak. I am strong.

Something was wrong, I wasn’t myself. I could feel it. I couldn’t fathom the scent of alcohol. I could only stomach chocolate banana milkshakes and PB&Js. Not to mention the unexplainable amount of emotions I felt day to day. Oh, and the late night bathroom crawls (a dead giveaway you’d think.) A year ago to the day, I took a pregnancy test. Not 1, but 3. “This couldn’t be happening to me”, I thought. I didn’t believe it so I rushed over to planned parenthood to take a “formal test”. As I awaited the results I sat composed, unbothered.  The nurse walked in and read me the results. “PREGNANT”. I stood up, holding back tears and said “thank you”. I wouldn’t allow myself to feel weak. It’s not in my character. But as I walked out I burst into tears. Uncontrollable, painful tears. It was never a question really. I knew I couldn’t have a baby. While I’ve always supported abortion I never thought I would be able to go through with one myself. Confident in my decision I still couldn’t leave the house. I couldn’t let people sense that there was something wrong. The rush of emotions is unexplainable. I still have the test results and ultrasounds. I don’t know why. I can’t let it go. I’ve never been able to throw away my past. I’ve also learned the past shapes you, it makes you strong. And that is exactly what I am.