Abortion and bodily autonomy: One woman's story. . .
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Women are not domesticated animals
“Choice” is a critically important element of a fully actualized and meaningful life, and our very basic human right to make decisions about our reproductive health and bodies is essential to what it means to be a whole human being.
It’s what distinguishes us from domesticated and farm animals, whose reproduction we humans control every day. Think of the dairy cows and hens who are kept continually pregnant, even painfully, so that people can satisfy their insatiable appetites for milk, cheese and eggs; or the dogs and cats we spay and neuter to keep their populations under control. When lawmakers legislate and regulate women’s bodies and restrict abortion-related healthcare, it’s a form of violence that’s not much different from the way our culture brutalizes and controls animals for our own pleasure and benefit. I, for one, am sick of it.
I didn’t realize it at the time, but I know now, that when I made the choice to become a mother, I also made the choice that as a black woman, a woman, and a sexual human being, I would live as a whole integrated person and not as parts of myself. Ever since, I’ve rejected and resisted the narrative that I was told about myself as a poor, working class black girl and single mother. I started writing my own story.
It’s taken me years to get here, but I have learned to embrace all of my imperfect human messiness. This changed everything for me and for my daughter. The ability to choose meant that I also I had a right to my dreams and hopes just like anyone else. I was able to keep my promises to myself to become the first in my family to graduate from college. I wasn’t afraid to explore every opportunity possible — even when they seemed impossible. I studied abroad with my 7-year-old at my side. We moved to France and Spain and I was fortunate to be able to raise her both abroad and in an idyllic New England college town, where I attended undergraduate and graduate school surrounded by ideas, books, and the opportunities that I once fantasized about. It was like living a dream — it was my dream.
Today, my daughter is 21 years old and living her own dreams. She will be a college senior this fall at a private liberal arts college in Los Angeles. This is what the right to choose means to me.
THE REST:
http://thegrio.com/2013/07/07/my-abortion-story-and-my-right-to-choose/
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