This entry is by Maggie Hope.
I am proud to say I’m pro-choice. The way I see it, this war over women’s bodies has reached ridiculous levels. We drive across state lines, take dangerous home remedies, do serious self-harm… and have to put up with bombings, riots, and worst of all – laws and the elected officials who keep everything as is. What the hell is that?!
I’m twenty-five years old. Since I can remember, I’ve grasped on to stories of the proud warriors of the pro-choice movement. It feels as if they’re family – as if their stories have woven into my own, and I feel as if I can never know them well enough.
I have a few simple bumper stickers on my car: Your silence will not protect you, There is no equality when women feel unsafe, and CHOICE. Choice. I make choices every day… we all do. We make the choice of what to eat for dinner, what kind of toothpaste to buy, whether or not to speed up through that yellow light. If someone else constantly made those choices for me, I’d start to get frustrated. No, I’d get fucking mad. And these are tiny, insignificant parts of life – nothing to do with, for the most part, my personal safety and health…
I’m pro-choice because it’s my body. I’m pro-choice for the young girl, raped by her father, unwilling to carry that violent pregnancy inside of her. I’m pro-choice for the single woman who just doesn’t have the money for another kid right now. I’m pro-choice for the married couple who got the timing all wrong. I’m pro-choice for the lesbian who thought she’d give something new a try. I’m pro-choice for my own brilliant cunt. I’m pro-choice because I’m a woman.
So – write a letter… and remember to send it. Call your representatives once a week – let their administrative assistant send you right to voicemail, because you’re going to keep calling back. Get together with your fellow pro-choice loved ones. Tell each other your stories, cry, yell, and then march together in a pro-choice rally – or start your own! Don’t take any shit. From anyone.
I think there comes a point in a young feminist’s life when they have to make a decision – get angry, or get quiet. Yell or shut the fuck up. Stand in that picket line, protest march, or vigil… or fade back in to the fucking status quo. And in this fight to win back our own bodies, I’m not going to sit here and take it like a fucking fool.
Amen!
intercessorsforchoice@gmail.com