When I was 23, I had an abortion in North Carolina. It sucked. The access felt impossible, the stigma was horrible, and I was at such a young age—with excess hormones surging through my body—that I was vulnerable to all the feelings. I cried, I mourned, and every year when that date came around I felt a pang of guilt and shame. I do want children – just not with a one-night stand that I barely knew when I was 23.
I’m pushing 30 now and starting to really think about when I want to have my own children. I’m with a partner who adores me and would make an incredible father. I look at him and imagine little versions of him running around. I get tears in my eyes just thinking about it.
This is what having an abortion gave me. I get to have a say in how I bring children into this world. I get to have a say about when I bring children into this world. I get to have a say about with whom I will co-parent my children. My abortion allows me to build the future I want in my own vision, not in the world where a 23-year-old made a simple mistake. My abortion allowed me the life I’ve always wanted – and that is worth shouting.
