The Write 31 Days Challenge – 31 Days,Every Day,One Topic
Small bands of teenage girls huddled together along the seemingly endless row of lockers, casting sidelong glances at the lone girl, walking chin up, eyes focused forward, as if aiming toward an imaginary finish line at the end of the hallway.
Some cast knowing glances at one another. Others giggled and smirked with glee at their shared knowledge of who and what this girl was.
When she was halfway down the corridor the chanting began, quietly at first and growing in volume as others joined in.
Though this daily ritual was sheer torture, and caused a sick churning in her stomach every time she entered the school’s ominous front doors, her stoic facade never wavered.
For like the Indian princess she’d pretended to be as a young child running silently through the woods – because Indian princesses never make a sound – she’d made a vow to herself from the day the taunting first began that No one would ever see that they had the power to hurt her. Click To Tweet
That vow would carry forward for decades to come.
That girl of course was me, and Abortion became my name.
From the end of my junior year in high school and all through my senior year the taunting continued. It was a time that should’ve been filled with dreams, as I planned my future, visited colleges, and hung out with friends. But for me, it was a nightmare.
I spoke early on in my story of how I was bullied as a teenager but I didn’t share the details of this, my most traumatic experience of all.
We moved a lot during my teen years and because I was shy it was hard for me to make friends. I was always quick to find boyfriends though as my heart was eager for love.
The boyfriend here, the father of the child, was my only friend at this new school and the only one I spent time with. He had his own group of friends though and after having the abortion I took into confidence one of the girls in his circle. With a beer or two in my belly and a need to get it off my chest I shared with her what I’d done.
Of course, it wasn’t long before the entire school knew. The first time it happened I arrived home in tears and told my mom everything. Her response wasn’t at all what I expected, as she reacted in anger that I’d opened my mouth. It had been our secret. She had warned me when she set it all up that I wasn’t to tell anyone, especially not my dad.
I don’t blame my mom for her response. Ours was a family that didn’t air our dirty laundry and she didn’t realize how much her lack of support hurt me. I felt betrayed but I also tended to agree with her that it was all my fault for being so stupid as to think that I could trust anyone, especially a female.
My senior year in high school was spent avoiding lunch in the cafeteria, skipping class as often as I could get away with it, forging notes to the attendance office, slacking off on my school work, and rather than applying to colleges, deciding that school was NOT FOR ME. It terrified me!
After graduating I left that part of my life behind forever and moved on, stuffing the secret deep inside and putting on a mask of perfection in hopes that people would like me.
Do you wonder why I started this chapter writing in third person? Because for a long time I chose to erase that girl from my life. She was shameful, dirty, bad and unlovable.
Sad? Yes, I’m sad for that girl too, but God has spoken sweet healing to her heart. Thank you Jesus.
One final NOTE here: I had my abortion in June of 1973, the same year that abortions became legal in the United States. I find it ironic that one day I was in church and asking my mom what this abortion thing was that everyone was buzzing about and within months I was learning what it was first hand. Ironic and sad. If interested, you can read my full Abortion Story HERE.
Thank you all for reading,
As always, I’d appreciate you sharing this series if it might help someone else. 😉
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