In my first year of university, I had an abortion. The narrative and stigma that society placed on this health care practice made me question my decision, but I was barely ready to move into an apartment by myself, let alone care for a child. I was scared and didn’t know what to expect. As the day of my appointment grew closer, I thought back to the first time I ever became aware of the right to choose.
When I was young my mother and I drove by parliament, and out the car window I saw protesters carrying signs with large images of fetuses on them and anti-choice slogans. My mom explained what an abortion was in a very scientific way, and I didn’t really think back on that moment again—until now.
Abortion is seen as a dirty word in our society. It’s often a very hush-hush topic and many don’t share their views or personal experiences surrounding it with their communities. I even feel unsafe writing this blog with my name attached to it. When will the stigma end?
In my own experience, I know if I hadn’t had the choice, I would’ve ended my own life instead. The sense of relief I felt after leaving my first appointment at the clinic was immeasurable. All the fear and depression I’d felt about potentially having to sacrifice everything I was working so hard for, my business, my degree, and my future, instantly vanished and I was hopeful once more.
My experience with receiving this basic healthcare service was 100 per cent positive. The nurses, doctors, family, and friends who supported me made the experience easy. I was prescribed the pill, and it was no worse than a bad period. When reflecting on my experience, I questioned why this method of healthcare wasn’t portrayed as a more accessible and easy option in our society. I ask you: what’s the difference between taking an abortion pill and taking birth control or Plan B? Further, I ask you: what’s the difference between taking an abortion pill and receiving a D&C abortion? The result is the same for all: preventing someone from having a child who doesn’t want to.
Like any topic that exists in this world, there will be people who agree and disagree. The point of pro-choice advocacy isn’t to convince everyone to have an abortion if they have an unwanted pregnancy. The goal is to create a society where people can freely make decisions without worrying about the implications of stigma and bias, whether that be personal or religious. Even women who relinquish their infants for adoption, albeit not as frowned upon by religious groups, experience stigma surrounding their inability to provide for a child they carried.
Today’s society is lacking basic human respect. Someone would rather be a troll online and ridicule an individual’s opinion and experience than have an intelligent and respectful conversation where their viewpoints differ. If a society is unable to hold space for respectful dialogue between opposing parties, does freedom of speech even exist?
My late grandfather, Royal Galipeau, was a strong believer in freedom of speech. He was also a fanatical “pro-life” activist and Conservative party member of parliament for Ottawa-Orleans. He spoke at the “March For Life” on multiple occasions. But he never spoke to me about his views while he was alive.
In 2018, he passed away. The first time I heard anything about his anti-choice activism was when we were planning his funeral and my grandmother asked the chaplain to speak about his role in advocating for the cause at his funeral. This idea was quickly shot down by other family members despite how strongly my grandfather felt about the issue while he was alive.
I know if he was still alive, I wouldn’t be able to speak with him about the choice I made. It makes me upset that families can’t put aside their personal viewpoints and trust one another to make decisions they see fit for their own situation. You know your own life better than anyone else.
When I was growing up, my grandfather always told me that politics is the place for me to find a career someday. It’s thanks to his influence and support that I feel confident enough in the safety of Canadian society to now publicly share my views on this highly-politicized issue. I hope to de-stigmatize abortion in a neutral way—when issues are so polarizing, it’s easy to get emotional but we don’t need emotionally-fuelled conversations. We need the right to basic healthcare. At the end of the day, despite what any religion may convey, that’s what abortion is.
I beg you to answer this: if I’m happy with and fully understand the decision I made, who are you to question me? In a country famous for its freedoms, we must set an example and be tolerant of the choices others make. We can’t pick and choose what issues we want this mindset to apply to. You don’t have to agree or even support the choices of others, but you have no right to take away that choice, that basic human right to healthcare. How dare you speak on behalf of the individual health needs of millions of women when each person’s experience on this planet is so unique? You don’t know any better than anyone else, regardless of their views, so live in line with respect towards all of humanity.
When I’m ready to have my own children, I know they’ll receive the love and support they deserve because the work I’m doing now will ensure they grow up in a world where we all have the right to our own life decisions.
Viewpoint: Reproductive Justice is a blog by the Abortion Rights Coalition of Canada.
Support rabble today!
We’re so glad you stopped by! Thanks for consuming rabble content this year.
rabble.ca is 100% reader and donor funded, so as an avid reader of our content, we hope you will consider gifting rabble with a donation during our summer fundraiser today.
Whether it be a one-time donation or a small monthly contribution, your support is critical to keep rabble writers producing the work you’ve come to rely on as a part of a healthy media diet.
Become a rabble rouser — donate to rabble.ca today.
Nick Seebruch, editor
