Why I Wrote the Chapter About My Abortion
When I sat down to write that chapter—the one about my abortion—I knew it wouldn’t be easy. I knew it would make people uncomfortable. I knew some might judge me, whisper about it, or quietly skip past those pages. I also knew exactly why I had to write it.
Because silence has never saved us.
Because in this country, in this moment, the right to talk about abortion—let alone access it—feels more fragile than ever. Because someone somewhere is sitting in a bathroom right now, staring at two pink lines, feeling completely alone. And maybe she’ll find my words. Maybe she’ll see herself in them and feel even an ounce less shame.
That’s worth everything to me.
Why This Chapter Matters
I didn’t write about my abortion because I owe anyone my story. I wrote it because too many people are scared to tell theirs.
We live in a time where abortion is being criminalized. Where access depends on your zip code. Where people are forced to carry pregnancies they don't want or can’t survive. Where the narrative is shaped by those who’ve never had to make this choice.
So I wrote my truth—not as a political statement, but as a personal one. Because my body, my grief, my relief, my healing—they all deserved a voice.
Writing Through the Tension
There were moments when writing that chapter felt like tearing open a wound. Not because I regret my decision—but because the experience was layered, messy, human. Because there’s no single story about abortion, and I wanted to honor mine without overexplaining or apologizing for it.
I wasn’t looking for pity. I wasn’t trying to be brave. I was simply trying to be honest.
I wanted to show the emotional complexity—not just the choice, but the before and after. The weight of the decision, the waiting, the waves of guilt and clarity, the private mourning that society doesn't make space for. I wanted to show that abortion isn’t just a “women’s issue”—it’s a human one. It’s about autonomy, safety, and survival.
If You're Reading This and You've Been There
I see you. I love you. You’re not alone.
You don’t have to explain your decision to anyone. You don’t have to justify your pain or your peace. You are still whole. Still worthy. Still allowed to move forward without carrying the weight of shame someone else tried to hand you.
A Chapter I Had to Write—And One I’m Ready to Share
My book isn’t out yet—but this chapter will not wait.
Because this moment matters. Because this story matters.
That’s why I’ll be sharing the full chapter in next month’s newsletter.
If you want to read it—uncut, unfiltered, fully mine—make sure you're signed up.
Thank you for holding space for my story. For reading the hard chapters, not just the pretty ones. For showing up—maybe with tears, maybe with questions, maybe with fire in your chest.
That’s how change begins.
