Storytelling is my love-language and you'd think that I'd be able to be loud and proud over this, but as you know, or can imagine, it's all very complicated. I've never shared this publicly, I probably should, but for now I'll share with you.
I had an abortion when I was 22, living in PDX in the early 00's. It was after a big fight with a girl I was in love with, and I got too drunk, partied with the wrong folks, and had an encounter that I barely remember, definitely did not consent to, with a dude who's name I doubt I even knew. My body felt different immediately and although I didn't take a test for a couple more weeks, I knew that it would be positive.
My life was in a downward spiral, my mom had died about a year prior to this, I was abusing drugs and alcohol, I was barely employable and I had lost my car because I couldn't pay to get it out of tow. I made an appointment with Planned Parenthood, having no idea how I would come up with the money for the procedure.
I was scared and alone.
I borrowed money from my dad and told him it was for my car, and took the bus to PP on the day of my appt. I had a friend pick me up and we didn't talk about anything on the way home.
I had always wanted kids, but couldn't imagine doing it without my mom. I've never had kids, or any more pregnancies. I sometimes wonder if that was my only chance and I wasted it because I was a mess of a person. I have never regretted it, just curious and maybe sad sometimes.
Thank you for giving me the space to put this out into the universe and maybe give a little love to my younger self. And a lot of gratitude to the fact I had a choice.
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