Our Bodies Are Our Own

Grandma, Me and Mommy 1962

PLEASE NOTE: this story is difficult to tell and includes details that may upset some. I have decided to share it because I believe the time is right. I know many will disagree with my personal feelings on the end result, but I hope you will respect my Mom’s truth. I have carried this story in my mind most of my life. When I think of it, I see everything as if it was recent. Some stories should be kept personal and private, but this story needs to be told NOW.

I was around 3 to 5 years old and my Mom and I were living with my Grandparents. I still remember everything as if it was yesterday. My Grandma and Granddaddy were on a vacation. It was just my Mom and I at home. I remember wondering where my Mommy was and looking around for her. I knocked on the bathroom door and Mommy told me to go to my room. Since no one was home I was feeling very lonely but I did what my Mommy told me too.

I don’t recall the exact amount of time, but after what felt like years to my little girl self, my Mommy called out for me. She asked me to call her good friend Shirley. I was little, I didn’t really know how to call anybody and I didn’t have any idea what a phone number was. I remember a feeling of worry and being afraid. Since I could not figure anything out, my Mom had to come out of the bathroom and get the phone number for me. I had to call “Miss Shirley” and ask her to come right away. I honestly remember feeling so stressed. I had never dialed a phone, let alone called Miss Shirley and Mommy seemed very upset. Children tend to react the way the adults react and I remember that the stress and worry was causing me great distress. Once I finally dialed the phone and Miss Shirley answered I kept repeating what my Mom had said. Basically it was “please come, I need your help”. Miss Shirley did come and eventually things calmed down. But my little girl heart was changed that day. The innocence that I had when I woke up that morning was diminished.

I remember my Grandparents coming home from their trip and Grandma being angry about a giant blood stain on her living room carpet. I also remember my Grandma literally beating my Mom. This wasn’t the first time I had witnessed Grandma beating my Mom but this time and one other time (and a different story) were horrifying. My Mom tried very hard to clean the spot but eventually my Grandma had to get new carpet.

At some point in my life I remember Mom telling me that she had aborted a baby that day. She shared that she had used a hanger to rid her body of the fetus that was from her boyfriend an (abusive animal) “Joe V”. She had used a HANGER inside her body because she had no options. I would share more about the abusive loser my Mom was with at the time, but this is really about having a Choice.

I have to be honest and tell you that I believe everyone should CHOOSE what happens to their own body. I don’t agree with anyone  (man or woman) deciding for another what they should do or not do with their body. I say this because I watched my own mother suffer for years because of what she did to her body that day. If she had been able to choose, I don’t think this would have been her first choice. I understand that you might not agree with a choice someone else has made or is making. I go through this everyday when I’m out and about and see some of the things people CHOOSE to wear, but it is NONE of my business. I realize that clothing choices are a much less weighty subject then the right for a Woman to decide for herself what she will do with her own body and somehow I feel if this arrow was pointing at a man, they would change their minds real fast.

So thats it, thats my piece of mind for today. If you disagree, I hope we can still be friends and respect each other. I still like you.

(Respectful dialogue is welcome and encouraged in comments)