“I will not be pushed, filed, stamped, indexed, briefed, debriefed, or numbered! My life is my own.” No. 6; Arrival
This is a hot topic. This is a dangerous topic. This will piss people off. This is your only warning.
I want to say this first, before my friends and family who read this get the wrong idea. I’m neither pro nor anti abortian, I’m of two minds about pro choice, and I’m not anti religion. All that said, the people who’ve been picketing for anti abortion laws with those posters of dead babies? You need to stop.
About three times in July, I ran into people in white T-shirts with pale blue writing and baseball caps. They were also armed with poster boards, white with the light blue crap. And pictures. Pictures of dead babies. Dead aborted fetuses.
Right outside the Krispy Kreme.
Naturally, being a woman, I was accosted by these freaks and asked if I wanted a pamphlet. No, thank you, and by the way I find your methods offensive and disgusting. Before we got into one of those religious debacles that end with everyone upset, I poliety excused myself with a simple ‘I need to catch my train.’
It still irritates the fuck out of me. I’m all for abortion, especially in cases of rape, abuse, health or otherwise dangerous situations. That said, I don’t feel abortion should be used as a method of birth control. It’s hard on the body, it can emotionally wreck a relationship, and there’s some study that it will increase the woman’s risk for cervical and/or ovarian cancer. I’m writing this in a meeting, so I can’t pull up a link to prove that.
I know women who’ve had abortions. I went to college with ones who used the ‘morning after’ pill. I dislike that people use post facto methods like that to take the place of foresight. Accidents happen, yes, but having sex sans condom because you were caught up in the moment.
Just because I’m pro-abortion doesn’t mean I’m for it all the time. And because I’m not for it all the time doesn’t make me a pro-lifer. The problem I have, and really have had for most of my life, is that these labels people want to slap onto people to make sense of them don’t fit me well at all.
Even more than that is the raw disgustingness of the pro-lifers tactics. I could probably be swayed over to one side or the other if they both didn’t resort to such repugnant methods of information spreading. Dead naked fetuses, comparing abortion to the WWII holocaust, and unrelentingly abusing my mind and eyes with images of the most grotesque abortions ever… And they’re shocked that I call them sick sons of bitches.
I challange all those pro-lifers to step up and take a stad at educating the populace about how physically and psychologically demanding an abortion is. Teach people that prevention is better than a cure. Show us humane and human information about what happens.
Don’t fill my mind with horror. God knows we get enough of that on the news. Don’t treat me like I have no concept of life outside of a movie. You say you care? Then don’t resort to such underhanded and low blow tactics. And if you can’t? Get the hell out of my way, because your shock and awe campaign only serves to make me despise you.
Finally, two OT side notes:
1. My hair is 7.25 inches from the top of my head to the ends. That’s from 4.5ish in March.
2. The new desks will be here Monday.