R v W

Abortion is a VERY hot topic, and most people are on one side or the other.
I am Pro-Choice.
Always have been, always will be.
I do not impose my beliefs on anyone.
Nor will I .... ever.

When I was 18, an abortion was the right thing for me to do.
When I was 25, it wasn't.
When I was 36, it wasn't.

I have been on both sides, and have lived with my decisions with no regrets.
In my 20's, when the anti-abortion movement was really in full swing, I took it upon myself to get trained and assist women into the clinics.
It was rewarding, terrifying and emotional as hell.

My decision to help other women be able to freely enter a clinic and have a procedure done that is LEGAL came from my own experience.
As I said, I was 18, pregnant, and in really not in any position to have a baby.
My boyfriend drove me to the clinic, walked in with me, and sat with me till I was called.
After my procedure, I walked out of the clinic expecting to see him waiting there for me. Instead, I walked smack into a group of protesters who wanted to know why I was there, and if I'd had an abortion. They had their hands all over me and were in my face telling me how evil I was, and that I was doomed to eternal damnation in hell.
I screamed at them to leave me alone and started to push their hands away.
Someone grabbed me by my hair and yanked me to the ground.
Once down, they continued to hurl verbal assaults.
All the while, a few of them were laying their hands on me and reading from the bible.
I had pictures of aborted fetuses shoved into my face.
I was called a murderer, baby killer, slut, whore.
All by "fine, upstanding Christian" men and women.
It's not THEIR body, yet they felt they had the RIGHT to tell ME what to do with MINE??????

I was in pain.
Physical and mental.
I couldn't wrap my head around what was going down.
It was as if it was happening to someone else and I was merely a spectator.
But it wasn't.
It was me laying there on the ground.
It was me who was bleeding and cramping.
It was me who had strangers hands all over my hurt, bleeding body.
It was me.
All me.

From somewhere, I found the strength to get up and the courage to fight back.
I told them they had no right to judge me, and they certainly did NOT have my permission
to touch me.
It got a bit ugly as my anger and indignation overtook any fear or pain I had felt just minutes
earlier.
At about this point, my BF and my best friend showed back up and scooped me away
from that awful scene.
Such vile, hate-filled words thrown at me, a stranger.
They didn't know me.
They didn't know my circumstance.
They didn't care.

I came home and was violently ill.
For so many reasons.
I was angry that my BF wasn't there.
He apologized over and over ....
and it wasn't his fault.
He was thinking of me ... he went to get my best friend.
He thought I would be in longer.
He felt horrible.
We cried.
For so many reasons.

But, as is often the case, some of the lowest points in our life turn into moments of clarity and
can spur us to action and become positives.

Regardless of my personal views, I was disturbed and obviously
affected by what happened that day.
That total strangers felt that incensed shocked me.
The verbal assaults I can handle .... but the physical?
WOW .....
So unprepared was I.
I know it's an emotionally charged and highly debated topic.
But to physically stop someone or attack them when they leave?
I don't get THAT.

It was an interesting lesson to learn. Hard too.
Definitely made me more aware of how intolerant and fanatical people can be.
And it saddened me ....