Why I’m Pro-Choice, by AJ

When my husband and I had children we always agreed to be open and honest with our kids. When we ended up having two daughters, my husband informed me that “those talks” were all mine. I’ve always been pretty open about women’s rights and at an early age they had probably heard me rant and rave about things they probably shouldn’t have but looking back on it, I’m so glad they did.

They’re 8 and 10 now and about one year ago they asked me what an abortion was. At first, I didn’t want to tell them anything. I didn’t want to tell them the process of an abortion. They’d never understand. They’d get the wrong idea about what it is because they’re kids. There’s no way they could really process that information. Then I thought back and no one in my family talked to me about periods, pregnancy or birth control early. l wasn’t going to be that mom. I told them about abortion in a very age appropriate way, but the most important part I wanted to make sure they understood was that it was their choice. As I explained to them about the process and asked them if someone else wanted to have an abortion what would you say? They were very sure in their answer, “It’s their choice.” Maybe they just said that because I was pushing that the choice is theirs to make or because they truly felt that it was their choice, but I was pretty sure I got my point across.

Fast forward to one day in January,  the night before my first morning as a clinic escort. We had talked about it all week long because they could tell that I was nervous about it. We talked about what an escort does and how they are there to support the woman. How their job is to walk with the woman and her friends or family from their vehicle to the building because they would be harassed. We discussed the protestors and how they were out there with signs with huge photos of dead fetuses and yelling at the women while they were walking into the clinic. My youngest daughter has always been the one to soak up the most information from me. I put them to bed that night, gave kisses, and kiss fives (kiss your hand, then high five) and tucked them in; business as usual. I went downstairs to go to bed myself and I’m lying there for about 10 minutes and in comes my youngest. She hands me a letter and it said,

Dear Mom,

I hope you can help a lot of women tomorrow(sic).

I’ll miss you and I love you a lot.



Then about 10 minutes later she comes back downstairs and she says, “Oh good, you’re still awake,” and she hands me a picture that she has drawn. As I’m looking at the picture, I’m at a loss for words and I ask her to explain it to me. She tells me that I’m at the top with a lady who isn’t sure about her decision, another helper with a lady who is very scared. I asked her what she afraid of. She told me that she was scared of the protesters. She said that she didn’t draw the protesters because they were not important because they weren’t there to help. I was overwhelmed at her understanding of it all.


I made sure that I brought those papers with me on Saturday morning because I knew I had plenty of second thoughts about going. I had seen the protesters from the street so many times before but I had no idea how it would affect me up close. When I approached the clinic from 3rd street, I couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed and tear up. When I got into the parking lot, I almost threw up, but then I remembered the papers in my pocket and remembered that the reason I’m here is to make sure that I’m doing my part to make sure my daughters have access to proper healthcare and rights to their own bodies. As their mother, I owe them that.


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About Fausta

Trauma sensitive Consultant and Coach for Compassionate professionals who experience second hand trauma and are at risk of burnout so they can keep doing the work that matters to them and to the world.

13 thoughts on “Why I’m Pro-Choice, by AJ

  1. This is such a beautiful story. I may not be a mother,but that doesn’t stop me from knowing when someone is raising their kids right! I am a daughter after all.

  2. Pingback: Manic Monday Check-In 2/8 « Making Time for Me

  3. Reblogged this on Dead Wild Roses and commented:
    What courage looks like – […] “the reason I’m here is to make sure that I’m doing my part to make sure my daughters have access to proper healthcare and rights to their own bodies. As their mother, I owe them that.”

  4. Pingback: ReBlog for Weekly Faves:  Why I’m Pro-Choice, by AJ « Making Time for Me

  5. This was a beautiful story. You are doing a good thing, both by helping women who need you and by telling your children the truth! Would you mind if I shared this post on my site this weekend for my Weekly Faves? Let me know, I think it is wonderful!

    • I would love for you to! I want to encourage mothers to talk to their daughters and sons about the importance of women’s rights.

  6. Go you for escorting, go you for raising amazing kids, and go your kids for their love and support.

    Oh – and go the kids for being MLP fans. And Muffins is Best Pony.

    • I’ve set through many episodes! I didn’t really think what an impact this would have on people until I shared my story. I’m so glad my story is touching others!

  7. This is wonderful. You did the right thing in sharing. Better accurate, age-appropriate information than hearing BS front someone else

    I had never been involved in any kind of activism until a ltitle over 3 years ago. Escorting and supporting a woman’s right to chose has been one of the most satisfying things I have ever done.

    • I’ve always been worried about other kids “teaching” my children in school and the information being inaccurate. I vowed to make sure that they wouldn’t be the kid at school terrified of starting their period in class and not being prepared. My oldest daughter starts middle school next year and she really wanted to make sure that she had extra supplies because she knew not everyone’s parents will make sure they’re prepared.

      I put off being an escort for a few years because I was afraid. I’m glad I’m doing it now and I try not to be so hard on myself for not going sooner.

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