6.24.22

When I was in sixth grade, my middle school held a mock election. I was eleven years old and what I knew about politics could fit on the surface of the well-worn eraser of my mechanical pencil.

But my parents were voting for Bill Clinton so I did too. I didn’t understand that the point of the mock election was a half-assed attempt for our school to show us how voting worked. For me, waiting in line to check the box next to Bill Clinton’s name just meant ten less minutes sitting in a class.

Later that afternoon, the results were announced. I don’t remember who a bunch of middle schoolers elected fake president that day, but I do remember the conversation I had with a friend as we waited for our buses to pick us up that afternoon.

“Who did you vote for?” “Ashley” asked as we stood under one of the giant oak trees on the school’s property.

“Bill Clinton,” I replied easily.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” she told me disparagingly.

“Why?”

“He believes in abortion.”

“What’s that?”

Something like excitement flashed in her hazel eyes as she opened her mouth to explain. “It’s when a woman has a baby and she decides she doesn’t want it so the doctor rips out its spine and its brain.”

I don’t remember my immediate response, but I do remember being horrified, borderline sick to my stomach. Why would a woman decide she didn’t want a baby? Why would a doctor, someone who was educated and revered, kill an innocent child in such a heinous way? Was this even legal?

“Ashley” and our other friends abandoned the conversation shortly thereafter. They played in the fallen leaves that littered the ground, talked about the upcoming band concert, and crooned to the Backstreet Boys and *NSync on their portable CD players.

courtesy Google Images

As I sat on the bus on the way home, I couldn’t get “Ashley’s” description of abortion out of my mind. I kept picturing evil doctors from horror movies brutally murdering babies. I felt stupid because I hadn’t known what the word meant. I felt guilty and dirty for pretending to vote for someone who believed it was okay to do such a thing. Then I began to wonder if my parents knew about this abortion thing. If they didn’t, should I tell them? And if they did know, did that mean that they were horrible people?

My eleven-year-old brain, which I didn’t yet know was afflicted with anxiety, practically paralyzed me in the following days. My mind kept conjuring up gory images and my already low self-esteem plummeted even lower as I battled with myself over my ignorance towards this new word I had learned. Abortion. Why hadn’t anyone ever told me?

Eventually, this anxiety and self-loathing was replaced by some other middle-school, tween drama, and the horrifying conversation I’d had with “Ashley” that day faded into the recesses of my brain.

It never even occurred to me to question the authenticity of her explanation until years later.

As I grew older, I eventually came to understand what the correct definition of an abortion was. And when I realized that I had spent years believing the foolish and completely inaccurate description “Ashley” had given me, I began to ask some questions of my own.

Who had given her that information? Why did she spew it so confidently, so excitedly, especially when she blushed talking about periods and pads and admitted she wasn’t sure where babies even came from?

I realize now of course that “Ashley’s” supposed knowledge of abortion at the tender age of twelve in the mid-nineties was based on fear and misinformation. Whether she gathered it from her parents, friends, church, or protesting strangers, she was so grossly incorrect that she caused me to question whether I was a good person. Her accusations and pure fictional horror made me question whether my parents were good people.  In some ways it made me question my entire existence, and not in a good way.

Even though I have been unwaveringly pro-choice since at least high school, I never stopped asking questions about the subject – not just abortion itself but everything that goes along with it. Why do women get abortions? Why don’t all women have access to birth control? Why are some people staunch anti-choice? Why do people believe and spread misinformation? What else does Planned Parenthood do? Do taxes fund abortions? (NO!) Why do people feel as though they have the right to make decisions about women’s bodies?

Thanks to my own curious mind and the time I spent volunteering with Planned Parenthood, I know the answers to most of these questions. I acknowledge that some people truly believe that abortion is morally wrong. I acknowledge it and understand that it is their right to decide against it – when the choice is theirs. But no one – no one – should ever be allowed to tell a woman what to do or not do with her body. Ever.

It has been several weeks since the overturning of Roe V. Wade. My rage has diminished a bit but my frustration and worry has not. We cannot afford to be shy when talking about human rights. We cannot afford to tolerate the fear and misguided information that is so readily available at every turn.

Other than donating to Planned Parenthood and voting, I wasn’t sure exactly how to help fight this latest injustice. But I recently listened to a podcast where an OB/GYN provided some really great resources for anyone looking to gather more information about this subject in these trying times.

I feel obligated to share these resources, regardless of however small my online audience may be. Hopefully there is someone out there who learns something, someone who makes up their own mind, someone who gets the help they need.

I need an abortion

Home – National Abortion Federation (prochoice.org)

THREE FOR FREEDOM – three for freedom (Fun Fact: if abortion is illegal in your state, this organization can have abortion pills shipped to you).

Safe Abortion Options Information Worldwide – safe2choose

AidAccess  (options counseling)

WRRAP: Women’s Reproductive Rights Assistance Project

Center for Reproductive Rights

Home (prrowess.org) (this is literally a floating health clinic that caters to individuals living primarily in Texas, Louisiana, and other states located on the Gulf Coast).

Most of these organizations are new to me and I was extremely encouraged to hear that there are so many people out there fighting for reproductive freedom. I really, truly hope that someone out there benefits from this information.

5 Good Things That Happened in 2020

By the time this post goes live, Christmas will be over and we’ll all be muddling through that weird final week of the year where we’re not sure what day it is, we’ve eaten too much rich food, and we’re waiting to ring in 2021.

Like most everybody else, I am sending 2020 into oblivion with hopes that the next twelve months look brighter and happier for everyone. While I know that the change of the calendar isn’t a magic wand that will make everything shitty suddenly go away, I’m trying to stay hopeful that we can put the ugliness of this year behind us and move forward to a more positive, inclusive, and healthier way of life.

That being said, I do want to take a moment to reflect on the fact that there were a few good things that managed to happen in 2020. These are the things that kept me going over the last twelve months, and I invite all readers and bloggers to reply or re-blog with the little things that kept them going in these unprecedented times.

  • I finished my manuscript!
    January of 2020 started with a slap in the face for me, and this was way before the word ‘Coronavirus’ was a thing. I wrote here about losing my (completed) 90,000+ word manuscript that I’d been slaving over for YEARS thanks to a USB crash. Also on that flash drive was the first draft of another novel in progress, as well as countless other short stories and nonfiction articles. I was devastated. I cried for two days and sulked for another week. But then I opened up a blank Word document and started all over again. Admittedly this was infinitely easier thanks to a very early draft that my friend (and lifesaver 10X over) had saved in her email, and I used that to rebuild the entire thing over the next couple of months. Being quarantined for spring and summer definitely helped the progress along, and I spent the second half of the year getting feedback from beta readers and editing. I plan on 2021 being the year of the query and already have my first five perspective agents picked out! Wish me luck!

  • We rescued 2 doggos!
    As if 2020 hadn’t started off crappily enough, and as if the beginning of the ‘rona pandemic weren’t scary enough, J & I lost our fur baby Comet in April. Saying goodbye to our fuzz bug was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do, and having a house devoid of any paws or barks or clumps of fur was beyond depressing — especially in the middle of quarantine.
    The silver lining to having a fur baby cross the rainbow bridge is, of course, welcoming a new one into your home. J and I happily welcomed Miss Kitty into our home in May, and Ghost joined us in October. It’s been a crazy ride with quite a few struggles, but overall I’m so happy that we have two crazy mutts sharing our home. Kitty is the epitome of a rescue dog — she was found lactating and emaciated on a four lane highway near San Antonio, TX, and clearly had a history of abuse and abandonment. Seven months in, she has made SO MUCH progress and is quite simply the sweetest girl ever. Ghost still has a lot to learn (we have puppy classes scheduled for January!) but he too has made lots of progress, including learning how to ‘give paw.’ Watching these two play and snuggle together absolutely warms my heart and I cannot say enough about how good it feels knowing you saved a life (or two) by adopting rescue dogs.
    If you’re searching for your own companion, may I suggest God’s Dogs in Texas? https://godsdogsrescue.org/
    Both Kitty and Ghost were adopting through this nonprofit and they were awesome every step of the way. If you prefer to meet your 4-legged friend before adopting, I highly encourage you to visit your local shelter or rescue. There are so many animals out there who need homes!

  • I had 2 poems published!
    While I am most certainly a writer, I wouldn’t exactly call myself a poet. I dabble from time to time, and a few years ago wrote a couple of pieces about the Outer Banks. This summer, Capsule Stories published those two poems in their print journal, and I was super excited to be able to share my love of the barrier islands with strangers and other writers.
    Capsule Stories is a refreshing, accessible literary journal that actually publishes in print, so check them out if you’re looking for something new to read: https://capsulestories.com/
  • Joe Biden & Kamala Harris won the election!
    I still get emotional when I think about that day that my husband texted me the news — I was standing in line at the deli at the grocery store when I learned that love, peace, and integrity had triumphed once again and that Joe Biden & Kamala Harris would be the next pair to occupy the White House. While Biden wasn’t my ideal candidate and I know that his presidency won’t solve all the issues in our country, I am beyond relieved that we won’t have to suffer another four years of hate and lies. It is also incredibly refreshing and encouraging to see how much diversity Biden will have in his cabinet, and I look forward to seeing his efforts on bridging the massive divide that currently separates this country.
    Love trumps hate. Love trumped hate. Love is love.
  • We went on vacation!
    When our friends moved to Holland last year, I was hopeful that J & I would get to visit them sometime in 2020. Of course those plans derailed like a train running on moonshine, and god only knows when we’ll ever get to go overseas again.
    However we did manage to make it to the Outer Banks for the first time since 2017, and though this vacation looked different than any other, it was nice to get out of our zip code and feel the sand and sea on our skin, especially when we were so desperate for some type of peace and relaxation.
    I’m keeping my fingers crossed that travel won’t be out of the question for the rest of my life, and in the meantime am having fun living vicariously through books and movies and Facebook posts.

So did anything good happen to you in this mess of a year? Please share, even if it’s something as simple as buying a favorite shirt or learning to cook a delicious batch of cookies. Stay safe, stay healthy, and here’s to a better 2021 — whatever that means!

Do Not Open til November 2020

Four years ago, in 2016, I wrote this letter to myself and sealed it in an envelope. I stuck it inside my nightstand drawer and didn’t think about it much until the last couple of weeks. I fully intended to open it this month, but I wondered when it would be appropriate to do so. Election day? Once the results were announced? After the news, whatever it may be, settled in?

Last night J & I had two friends over to celebrate the Biden/Harris win and the inevitable end to trump’s four years of an embarrassing parade of hate and misinformation. It was the first time the four of us had been together since COVID, and it felt good to be in the company of good friends again. It felt good to catch up, eat pizza and wings, drink beer and toast with champagne. It felt amazing to watch Kamala Harris and Joe Biden take the stage and celebrate with crowds of (masked) citizens who had taken to the streets to celebrate the end of a reign of racism and lies.

And this morning when I woke up, it felt appropriate to open that stuffed drawer of my night stand, sift through four years of greeting cards, newspaper and magazine articles, phone chargers, and coupons to recover the letter I’d written four years ago in the wake of an unprecedented election.

I’ll share it with you now —

Hey, you,

Four years ago, you made history by voting for a woman for President of the United States. She didn’t win, and it was heartbreaking and terrifying. (I don’t think you need to be reminded of who did win).

You spent hours crying your eyes out. You got into all sorts of political arguments. You felt angry, hopeless, embarrassed, and sad. But then you felt empowered. You realized you had a job to do and a cause to fight for and people to help. When you read this in 2020, I don’t know where you’ll be in life or where we’ll be as a country or humankind. But I guess the point of doing this is to remind you four years from now of how low and hopeless so many people felt and how somehow we banded together, and hopefully not only made it through but prospered and made some big changes.

So maybe by 2020 we’ll have a new president. Maybe it’ll be a newcomer we haven’t heard of yet or someone like Michelle Obama. Maybe you’ll be a mom, maybe you’ll live in a bigger house, maybe you’ll be really successful with your writing. Or maybe you’ll still live in the same house and work at C and write in your spare time.

But where ever you are in 2020, and whoever is on the ballot this time around, just take a moment to reflect on this simultaneously dark and bright moment of 2016 — and what is hopefully an even brighter moment in 2020.

Friends, I cannot tell you how good it feels knowing that trump will be a one term president. Like most of the world, J & and spent the last four days watching the endless election coverage and riding the emotional roller coaster that came along with it. There were moments of of hope and disbelief — that Biden/Harris had flipped several red states and counties blue, that the margins were so close, and that even after the disaster that has been the last four years, that so many people still support this mockery of office.

I was standing in line at the deli counter at the grocery store when my husband texted me to let me know that Biden won. I quickly logged onto CNN.com to verify the news, and my knees almost gave out. The relief spread quickly through my body, lifting a weight that had been burdening me and so many other Americans for four long years. As the girl behind the counter sliced my Dietz and Watson, I looked around for someone, anyone I could share the news with. The other shoppers all seemed oblivious still, and I knew it was inappropriate to broach the subject with strangers. I accepted my meat and cheese with shaking hands, then rounded the corner with my cart and texted my sister and my friend with tears in my eyes. As I struggled to get a hold of myself next to the baked goods, I was amazed at how suddenly it was so much easier to breathe.

It has been a long time since I’ve felt proud to be an American and hopeful for this country and its people — all of its people. I know that we still have so much work to do and there are so many more things that need to change, but I truly believe that we took the right first step this past week in electing two people that not only represent the diversity and beauty of this nation, but have its best interests at heart.