Because I realized my dad was wrong

I grew up in a household where my family members picketed abortion clinics (mostly just my dad). Abortion was probably the last thing I accepted a liberal stance on, just because of the judgment I felt from my family. Around 18 I started saying things like “I think it should be legal but I would never have one,” while secretly thinking I totally would have one and just not tell anyone, but also feeling like a terrible murderer for thinking that. I think when I became very, very pro choice was when I was dating the Abusive Asshole. He wanted to have kids for awhile, and I’ve never wanted children, to the point that I put off sex with my high school sweetheart for 3 years because of the possible risk of getting pregnant (I didn’t know I could get hormonal birth control without my parents finding out from the insurance company). I used to think, wow, what if I did get pregnant? I’d never want to be tied to him with a child and I’d never want a child to grow up like this. Incidentally, that’s around the time I started also thinking about leaving.

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