Keep Your Pulpit Out of my Bedroom.

It’s long, because I’m pissed.

Schedules have gone out the door.  Time means nothing. I think it’s Friday.  Nothing means anything, at least it hasn’t since three days ago when I checked my news feed after being in the sick-mom bubble all week.

Once, in an old blog, I talked about a proposed South Dakota law that would make it illegal to help someone get an abortion.  This was in February of 2011…11 years ago.

In May of 2019, I wrote about how tired I was that this was still an issue…4 years ago.  7 years between posts…seven years of the same old debate.

In September of last year, I wrote about my rage toward the Supreme Court and how they’re a bunch of asshats, and I’m standing by that observation today.

Listen…I was pro-choice before pro-choice was cool.

Picture me, a twelve-year-old Catholic schoolgirl who spends her weekends hanging with a Baptist youth group and you can pretty much figure out that I was anti-abortion…”pro-life,” as they liked to call it.  I had it coming at me from two religions, you see.  First, there was the day in 7th grade when our church got the big “Respect Life” sign installed on the front lawn, and we were taught that it meant we, as Catholics, supported life in all forms.  Which sounds great, but has caveats that they didn’t bother to explain to us.  I thought it meant you do everything you can to save a baby, and you don’t support the death penalty.  Again, perfectly great ideals, but asking a child to blindly follow something that they do not truly understand is not okay, in my opinion.  Then, there were the Baptists.  Now, I’d love to write a blog comparing the two religion’s influences in my youth because I’m sure it would be fascinating (to me at least) but for the sake of this blog, we’re just talking about abortion.

The Baptists provided more information, but it was mostly incorrect.  No, I was not invited to vigils and pickets and the March for Life-that was reserved for the high schoolers.  But I was taught that barbaric methods were used during abortions and that those who performed or received them were going straight to hell.  We were to pity those people, and pray for their souls.  I went off to my Catholic high school with this idea in my brain.

Then came October 23rd, 1998.  I was a sophomore, and Dr. Barnett Slepian of Amherst NY was murdered in his home while making soup.  He was an OB/GYN who provided abortions, and for this, a zealot shot him in the head.

This was the moment when “Respect Life” took on a whole new meaning for me.  Obviously, this man was not respecting life…I’m talking about the shooter, not the abortionist.  A true Christian, I surmised, would aid the supposed sinner, not play God and remove them.  My eyes opened then, as I realized neither my church nor my youth group seemed to take into consideration the lives that were already walking the earth.  So, I did as I do when confronted with a problem, and I researched.

Wow, was I lied to!  From both parties!

First of all, the barbaric practices the Baptists spoke of were practically nonexistent, and what did seem terrible only seemed that way if you look at the fetus as a whole human instead of a grouping of cells, which is what it is in the beginning.  Then the Catholics and their rhetoric just seemed ridiculous, because on one hand they were all “let us pray for the family of Dr. Slepian,” and on the other, “be sure to register for the Walk for Life!”  I was already seeing all kinds of Catholic hypocrisy, so this was really no surprise.

Anyway, long story short, I was anti-abortion at one time, because somebody lied to me.  A lot of somebodies lied to me, over and over again, so of course I believed them.  So, what am I saying?

I’m saying that if you’re still anti-abortion, I’m going to need you to ask yourself why.  If it’s a God thing, cool…you do you.  But that’s just it…you…do…YOU.  Not me, not her, not anybody else.  You don’t get to decide for me how I get to live my life.  No one does, in any way, ever, and that is the hill I will literally die upon.  Just like I can’t force you to get an abortion, you can’t force me not to.  I will not risk my health or sanity because you got a beef with your church.  Note I said church, not Creator, because that dude does not care, I assure you.  Jesus never said one word about abortion.  And my favorite little bit of Bible in this particular case?  “And the Lord God formed man of the dust of the ground, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life; and man became a living soul.” Genesis 2:7.  Ain’t no fetuses breathing, is all I’m saying.

But, Bible aside, (because it should be-we aren’t all Christians, and shouldn’t have to live by their dogma,) this is so not about babies at this point, and it’s so glaringly obvious, that I just don’t think I have the energy for the enemy anymore.  If you can’t see that this is a total attack on all women, you are not paying attention.  For instance, some states are proposing legislature that would persecute a woman who has an abortion for an ectopic pregnancy.  Those pregnancies are 100% not viable, and can kill the woman.  So, should I have one in one of these states, I would have to choose between letting myself die or going to prison because I had an health condition. 

ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?

So, this is just a note to say peace out to everyone I know who is supporting Alito’s document.  I am done with you.  You do not value my life, or the lives of the women I know, or the lives of the women you know.  If abortion isn’t for you, that’s fine…but you don’t get to speak for me, and if you think you do, you can just be on your merry way.  Unfollow, delete, block, do what you gotta do…but I’m not coming around on this one. 

Of course, 90% of the people I’m taking to right now are men.  All the ladies I know are outraged, while the dudes are just standing there with their hands in their pockets.  Look at your wife; look at your daughter.  Look at your mother.  Do you really believe a rich old white male politician knows more about her body than she does?  If you do…then you need to leave.  You don’t value her as a human being if you think she can’t handle herself. End of story.

We are not idiots, you see.  We are brilliant, and we are systematically held down because of our brilliance, in ways such as this.  What are you so afraid of, men?  Why is being in control so important to you?

Perhaps because you know that if the roles were switched as they are now…you wouldn’t like it.  You wouldn’t like making 72 cents on the dollar.  You wouldn’t like that 1 in 4 of your friends have been sexually assaulted and/or domestically abused.  You aren’t going to like us catcalling you on the street when you’re just trying to get through your day. You aren’t down with us making you get a vasectomy or taking birth control pills.  You have no desire to stand in our shoes, because you have made them incredibly uncomfortable, and you know it.

Oh, and don’t “well that’s a different generation” at me! I know 15-year-old boys who think they can control girls, so what the fuck makes me think they didn’t learn it from their parents?  Don’t tell me “well, if women don’t want to get pregnant they should keep their legs shut,” like you’d want to live in a world where no one is fucking you.  Don’t pull the old “well the body has ways of shutting down a nonlegitimate pregnancy,” you total goon!  Go read one of those science books their trying to ban.  I mean, MY GOD, a simple Google search, guys!

So, in conclusion, if you decide that you yourself do not want an abortion, that’s nice.  But you don’t get to speak for me, you don’t get to pity me, and you don’t get to try to change my mind, any more than I do for you.  There is one Christian tenet that I have carried with me throughout my long spiritual journey…do unto others as you would have them do unto you.  And for a bunch of folks claiming to be Christian, you sure aren’t following the main rule.  I would never force you to get an abortion.  You don’t get to force me or anyone else out of one.

Blind Fury

I started writing a blog about therapy and then I had to stop because of “the feeling.”  You know, that mixture of exhaustion and rage that we’ve been dealing with for about 20 hours now?  No?  Just me?  Maybe the ladies know what I’m talking about.

When Ruth Bader Ginsburg died, I cried.  I sobbed on a boulder in the middle of the woods on a camping trip while my husband held me and promised it would be alright; everything would be fine.  Then, yesterday, the Supreme Court made my husband into a big fat liar.

All I can think of is how scared those women in Texas must be.  How terrified.  This has nothing to do with saving human life, and everything to do with persecuting it.  I am so grateful to live in NY where anti-choicer’s are outnumbered in state government, but that doesn’t mean I’m not scared of federal possibilities.  That doesn’t mean I’m not horrified by the Supreme Court’s violation of the constitution. 

Here is the Texas law, explained a little, with my reasonings for why it is horrendous:

  1. Abortions are banned after six weeks.  Many women do not even know they are pregnant at that point…I myself probably wouldn’t even think about it until after week 4 went by.
  2. There are no exceptions for rape or incest.  Disgusting.  You’re going to make a victim carry around their trauma for nine months?  Then what?  Where’s the pro-life bit there? (Also, can we retire “pro-life” when what they really are is “anti-choice?”  I mean…it’s not like they’re going to raise the baby, are they?)
  3. You can be sued for helping someone get an abortion.  So, whether you are a doctor performing it or a nurse assisting or a friend DRIVING you there, you can be sued.  So, if I lived in Texas, I would be sued, because I will absolutely always drive a woman to Planned Parenthood, if need be, and we will go get ice cream afterwards.
  4. The citizens who choose to sue don’t need to show any connection to the person they’re suing.  So, a random could totally decide to sue you.  Or, more likely, an angry ex.  Gross, on so many levels.

Now, I have questions.  Say someone says a woman is planning on getting an abortion. What if she isn’t pregnant?  Does she have to prove it?  Does she have to go down to the police station and pee on a stick?  What if she is?  Does she need to submit her private medical files?  At what point do we get into invasive exams?

Give me a little bit, I’m sure I will come up with even more questions.

God, I’m tired.  God, I’m angry. 

I don’t have much love for Texas to begin with.  My friend Molly’s parents lived in Texas and she told me they had scorpions in their shoes sometimes and I said “nope” and swore I’d never set foot in the state, but this really takes the cake.  I have a cousin from Texas, and he is a nice guy.  I think he leans conservative and that’s cool because I know he reads my blog (Hi, Kevin!) and knows that I lean the other way, but he’s the type of man that knows how to look at different points of view.  I think he truly just accepts people as they are.  Which is how I like my conservatives.  So, in my opinion, him and his wife and their tiny dog are the best things to come out of the state.  And were it not for them and their kin, I would be perfectly happy with Texas seceding and calling it a day.  That’s how mand I am.

God, I am so mad.

So that therapy blog will be upcoming, because I am drowning in angst right now.  Happy Thursday.  I guess.

Tired in the Face of Battle

Once I wrote a blog about abortion.  I was angry at some bill that was being presented in South Dakota that when boiled down would have made it acceptable to kill anyone trying to terminate a pregnancy.  It triggered me to pull out my soapbox and start screaming.  Now it’s several years later and guys, I’m tired.

I mean, we shouldn’t have to still be doing this.

This week was draining.  This week was repulsive.  I am disgusted and exhausted, and I just do not have a thousand words on why you shouldn’t outlaw abortion.  Church and state.  The Constitution.  Not everyone is religious.  Back alley abortions.  Etc, etc, etc.  I just don’t have it in me.  I’ve passed the point of reasonable, logical discourse and moved right on to blind fury.  I spend my mornings screaming at the television.  I go on Twitter and Facebook to find every woman I know out for blood.  Even women I don’t usually agree with are angry.  They’re the sort that “don’t care about politics” or who I have assumed to be pro-life due to their religious beliefs.  I’m finding that even they are outraged at items like how under some laws abortion would get you more time in prison than your rapist whose baby you aborted.  I may not always understand them and we may not agree on everything, but it gives me hope to see these women realize that this isn’t a war on abortion, it’s a war on US.

Still, certain females (and Alabama state governors) turn their back on their sisters (and constituents) and refuse to acknowledge other points of view.  You can’t be a public servant and not serve the public, of which 70% agree with Row Vs. Wade.  It’s just not in your job description.

I’ve never had an abortion, but I have used birth control and Plan B.  It’s a slippery slope, you see, and that’s what they’ll come for next.  There have already been fights, such as employers refusing to cover birth control based on religious grounds.  I have no intention of having children, and I refuse to be seen as a walking uterus, which is why I am so absolutely grossed out by what is happening in my country right now.  And still, so tired.

Tired of the apathy.  Tired of the women who don’t care.  Tired of the men who know better but don’t speak up.  Tired of the men who know nothing doing all the talking.  Tired of the war, man…the struggle.  Just tired.

So, I don’t have a scathing diatribe about abortion rights, because I am saving my energy for actual battle.   There are protests to go to and letters to write and phone calls to make, and I would rather spend my time and energy doing something instead of just sitting here bitching about it.  Not that I won’t complain, mind you; that’s simply my nature.  I will continue to yell at my television screen each morning.  It’s cathartic.  The point, however, is that I can write all the blogs about abortion rights that I want but if I’m not actually doing something than what’s the point?  Yes, my words are my weapons but in times like these we need actual energy and movement and fury.  I’m tired, yes, but I’m also livid, and that rage fuels me to keep fighting for equal rights.  That anger is what keeps me going on the days when it all becomes too much to process, which has been the case this past week. 

Yes, I am tired.  No, I am not giving up.