My dad molested me until I was 13. He didn’t impregnate me but I believe growing up that way made it hard for me to say no. At 16 on a rare occasion when my boyfriend’s mom was out we were looking forward to sex. I said no when he told me he forgot condoms, but he made me feel like shit so I said yes. I was later told I had no one to blame but myself.
I asked him for money and a ride for an abortion, but he was broke and busy, so I found a way myself. It was 1983. I lived in Virginia, which now has a parental notification law, but I would rather have killed myself than told my abusive parents I was pregnant. I meant it. I attempted suicide 2 years later, thinking I could not live with what my father did to me. That’s why I didn’t even consider adoption. That and the fact that I myself was adopted in into an abusive family.
I truly believe I wouldn’t be here if it hadn’t been for safe, affordable, confidential services, something that hardly seems to exist anymore. I have had much healing and happiness in my life, and I have 2 wonderful children. I owe those people so much. I feel like crying every time I hear of a clinic closing.