i am on a plane bound for chicago, then i fly to st. paul, where i will sit in giant theaters & tell several thousand people (spoiler, sorry) each night about my abortions.
yes, abortions.
plural.
i’ve had three.
motherjones.com/politics/2019/…
in none of these cases was i raped. in one case, the fetus wasn’t viable. in the other two: i chose.
i wasn’t ready.
in each case (in massachusetts, edinburgh and NYC) i had access to a safe, legal abortion.
by the time i was in my 30s, there was google.
there wasn’t an abortion handbook. there wasn’t a website to hold my hand & explain the emotions - not that i could find, at least. it was really lonely.
i’ve had one miscarriage. (didn’t choose that one, nope).
every one of these experiences, these disorienting and oddly empowering womb-moments, has emboldened me to speak plainly and shamelessly....
i don’t want to be “the abortion lady”, y’all.
but.
global fascism and religious extremism are on the rise. we know our history. the FIRST THING THEY GO AFTER is a person’s right to control their own body and destiny.
control the wombs and you control the political agenda.
it’s stupid. it’s sexist. it’s racist.
give money.
volunteer.
ask what you can do to help.
plannedparenthoodaction.org/issues/health-…
if you can....share your story. now is the time to speak. if you’ve spoken before, speak again.
speak for the ones who can’t.
we must speak.
if we can...we must. 🙏🏼