“I found out I was pregnant the morning of my grandmother’s funeral.”
“I found out I was pregnant the morning of my grandmother’s funeral.”
“Walls were painted blue, gendered gifts purchased, and everyone in the delivery room was shocked when I entered the world with a vagina. And before I turned one year old, I was forcibly sterilized. Or, in simpler terms, castrated.”
“I was quiet. I didn’t want to cause a scene. I didn’t know better.”
“To the outside, I was this happy-go-lucky, life of the party with no worries. I’d wake up with an empty bottle of wine next to my bed and no recollection of drinking it because I took an Ambien. I’d go to bed every night, begging to not wake up the next morning.”
“I was swiftly and abruptly thrust into an entirely different world than any of my friends. I sat alone in the grief and stewed.”
“I was a people pleaser. ‘If I put their needs before mine, maybe they’ll like me more.’ Deep down, I wasn’t happy with myself.”
“My 3-year-old sat chattering on the toilet I still need to scrub, while the shrieks of her siblings pierced the background. I had a laundry list of things running through my mind that needed to be accomplished and not a single clue how I was going to make it come to fruition. And I was weary.”
“‘The risks are too great. You should just live with what you have left.’ I still felt in my heart this was something I needed to do.”
“‘Forties is IT! Who wants an old woman like me?’ Then I met a younger man. A man who didn’t care about my age at all.”
“I’d walk my dog and people would scream things out of their car windows. I even lost out on job opportunities because I did not ‘look’ the part. It was time to do something.”