What Is…My Body My Choice
It’s my first post for what will be known as What Is…Wednesdays, meaning on Wednesdays (not necessarily every week though) I will explore topics that I’m intensely curious about. Originally, I wanted to start with the idea of failure, especially for someone like me who is smack in the middle of middle age. But due to the Supreme Court’s decision to overturn Roe vs. Wade, I’ve decided to start with something more relevant: What Is…My Body My Choice.
I’ll start with a memory that every menstruating person knows all too well. I’m in my late twenties sitting on the toilet in the apartment I share with my roommate. The door is locked, and I’m trying to be as quiet as possible because I don’t want my roommate to know that I’ve just peed on a stick and am waiting to see if one or two lines will appear. This was twenty years ago, so this is not the now ubiquitous COVID test.
My period is about a week late, and I’m waiting to see if I’m pregnant.
I don’t want to tell my roommate because she does not approve of the guy I’ve been hanging out with, and I know I’ll get the “I told you so” that I don’t need right now. I like the guy. We have fun together. We have no intention of making it long term, and we certainly have no plans to parent a child together.
Ten years or so earlier, I remember sitting in a very different place: a high school classroom as a sophomore. I don’t remember which subject I was in, but the teacher had the misguided idea to ask students what they thought other students in the room would become when they grew up. When the discussion turned to me, someone said, “I see Teresa as pregnant with 5 kids. As a mom.” Most other people in the room agreed.
Was it meant as a compliment? I certainly didn’t take it as one then, and looking back on it, I think it was more of a stereotype. It didn’t matter that I was smart and independent. I was also very shy and soft-spoken and was often told I was too nice (but too nice for what? I ask). Apparently, the only option for a girl like me in 1988 was to be a mom. But here’s the thing: The farthest thing from my mind in that moment was being a mom or having kids. Not because I was only fifteen, but because I was a 15-year-old who knew that I did not want kids. Not then or at any time in the future.
That was my choice as fifteen-year-old, and it’s still my choice as a 49-year-old.
As I sat on that toilet in my twenties, I was terrified. I was still a young woman living in New York City with huge dreams. As someone who could barely afford to support herself, I knew if I had a baby those dreams would die, and I might have to move back to the Midwest and move in with my parents. It was a path I was not prepared to travel down. The thought of it sent me spiraling into a depression.
You probably think you know where this is going. You don’t. The second line never appeared that day. My period showed up a couple of days later.
This is not a dramatic story about abortion, but that is the entire point.
Abortion and the access to it are not always about a dramatic moment in a women’s life.
It is about the power of choice and how that affects every woman’s life.
I was born in 1973, the same year as Roe vs. Wade. I have, until last Friday, lived my entire life knowing I had a choice. If I had been pregnant that day, I knew that abortion was an option and that what I wanted for my own life would not have to be put on hold or abandoned. I knew I wouldn’t be forced into a lifelong connection with a man I simply enjoyed hanging out with. I knew I wouldn’t have to face any “I told you so’s.”
Until last Friday, we all had that choice. The 15-year-old who knows she never wants to be a mom. The 28-year-old at the beginning of her career with big dreams that don’t include children. The 49-year-old who is happily married and equally happy to be childless by choice. And then there are the women who already have kids and struggle every day to make ends meet. The ones who are abused by family members or raped. And millions of other people who happen to have a uterus.
Overturning Roe vs. Wade is about taking power away from every girl, every woman, and every American citizen with a uterus. Is that really want we want for our country?
It's not only about abortion, and it never was. It’s about the power to choose how you want to live your life.
Shouldn’t we want that power for everyone in our lives, whether they have a uterus or not?
That is…My Body My Choice.
As we navigate this post-Roe world, take the time to listen to those with a uterus and the stories they have to tell and the choices they make every day.
Rest if you need it. Fight when you’re ready. Stay hopeful if you can.
And Stay Curious about what it is to be a woman in the world.
Typically, at the end of a blog post, you’re supposed to have a “call to action” for your readers. In this case, I’d prefer to direct you to a site that is currently helping women get abortions if they need it. Please consider donating if you can: