Abortion.

Warning: I’m going to share my story and my “political opinions” here.

I have thought about writing this post for a while. I’m starting it now after about an hour of swiping through dating apps on my phone. On OkCupid the system asks you whether or not you support defunding Planned Parenthood. If you say no it puts this little badge on your profile that says “#IStandWithPP”. My immediate reaction is “what a weird thing to put on a dating profile.” I suppose sex politics are so big right now, such a “hot topic”. It makes sense that you’d look for someone who shares your values.

Anyways…

When I think about the whole defund PP thing, my main thought is this – what would I have done without PP when I got pregnant.

I wanna share my abortion story because I think it’s important for these experiences to be heard by people who may be in a similar situation, but also and maybe more importantly by people who have not and maybe never will be able to relate.

Warning: I’m going to share my story and my “political opinions” here.

The media, religious institutions, our educational system, and politicians both Dem and Rep alike talk about abortion as a traumatizing experience, a “difficult decision”, and a cause for lifelong regret. Though some women may have an experience like this, studies show that it is simply not reality for the majority of women who elect to have an abortion.

Since I’m not writing a research paper here, I encourage you to check out this interesting Slate article that shares the statistics here. Meanwhile I’ll move on…

The facts are that the majority of women find the decision easy to make AND don’t feel regret afterwards. I am one of these women.

I got pregnant my junior year of college. My period was like two weeks late and every day I’d go to the bathroom to inspect myself looking for blood, to no avail. I took an at home pregnancy test but those things are harder to read than you’d think. So I made an appointment at Planned Parenthood to get a pregnancy test done. I didn’t even research what to do or where to go, I simply knew that PP would be able to help.

I was having morning sickness. Heads up to potential moms out there…you can get morning sickness super early in. I brought my friend with me to the appointment. They had me pee in a cup. They also gave me a drug to calm my nausea. They wouldn’t let my friend into the office with me but then when the result came they let her hear it with me. I should’ve known the result from that alone.

When she told me I was pregnant I teared up immediately. Before they give you the test they ask you if the test comes out positive if you would “terminate” or not. After she told my result she asked me if I still wanted to terminate. I did not even hesitate in saying yes.

This decision was not hard for me to make. Being a 21 year old mom was completely out of the question. I’m 24 now and I would still make the same decision then or now. I feel zero regret. I made the medical decision that was right for me. I’m sure this will offend some people but the doctor took an ultrasound and told me the “fetus” (not even a fetus yet technically I just don’t know the proper word) was the size of a pea. That’s not a baby to me. I was early on enough that I did not even need any surgical procedure. I would just have to take two pills and it would be done. I scheduled the appointment.

The cost for this was about $500 if I remember correctly. I was a college student and did not have an income so I needed help. I told my aunt and she told me she’d pay for it. She was the first person that I called. At the time I wasn’t sure if I was going to tell my mom. My aunt encouraged me to, and I agreed. I told my sister and she agreed to help me tell my mom.

I sat my mom down in her room. It was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. My sister was there. I just said, “mom, I made a very adult mistake and now there are some very adult consequences.” I told her about the appointment, and then I told her my plan. I described the medical procedure, the cost, everything, including that my aunt would pay for it. Her eyes were welling up with tears but she was calm. She just said “okay”. She told me that she would make the same decision if she was in my shoes. She harped on the importance of not letting my father know. Then she told me she would pay for it.

*Sidebar about how lucky I am to have family members who are supportive and financially able to help me. I know not all women have this same privilege.*

Before they give you the pills they make you watch a video on abortion. I’m assuming this is supposed to be a last attempt at shaming you out of it.

You take one pill at the office and then another several hours later at home. It is super easy and relatively painless. They also give you pain medication to use, and an anti-nausea pill.

I bought a cheap pair of velour sweatpants and a set of Disney’s Frozen themed adult underwear from Walmart. I put them on and took my second pill. This pill essentially makes you have a period. It makes your uterus contract, which can cause cramping. It just felt like a heavy period. I bled a decent amount. It was all over within 12 hours. No regrets.

My friends at the time shamed and bullied me. Most of those people are no longer my friends. They talked about it behind my back. One girl expressed that it bothered her that I wasn’t struggling more with it. They gossiped about it as if it couldn’t have been them ten million other times, all of the other times where they had their own pregnancy scare. As if because maybe I’m more fertile and it wound up being real for me and not them that I was some sort of slut and a monster for not falling into a depression over making the decision to terminate. Even though of course they even admit that they would have done the same thing.

Maybe the reason my experience bothered them was because they’ve been told all their lives that abortion is sad and traumatizing and shameful. I’ll be even bolder in saying that JUST MAYBE some women only end up having this negative experience because they too were socialized into thinking that they’re supposed to feel scared and ashamed and sad. Maybe that’s why the only stories we hear about are those negative ones, because people like me are told that it’s fucked up that the experience was easy for us, so we don’t share our story.

We are living in a political climate where the administration wants to defund women’s healthcare programs which will minimize access to birth control and family planning services…which WILL, as history shows us, increase things like unwanted pregnancies, teen pregnancies, etc…but ALSO wants to defund programs that help families in poverty, single parents, etc. So I’m confused. You say it is morally wrong to abort a pregnancy, you force women to go through with unwanted pregnancies, but then you’re like “nope, poor people are lazy, no healthcare for you or your baby!” Like can you explain this thought process to me?

So the story comes full circle…back to the topic of PP. I am so privileged in having the financial means to pay for the abortion. However, not all women share in my privilege. Gender equality will not exist until we have a society and government that recognizes female health needs as legitimate, and creates a system where this healthcare is accessible to all.

Again, I really recommend this article from Slate, and I always urge you to do more research and fact checking.

If you are reading this and you’re feeling some type of way about an experience of your own…please don’t feel alone or unsupported. So many women have shared your experience.

Up until 2008 it was believed that one in every three women would have an abortion by age 45. One third! That is so many women that you probably know in your own life that have this shared experience even if they don’t talk about it.

Since 2008 (Obama administration, cough) the abortion rate has done down. The one in three statistic is most likely no longer accurate. See this article from The Washington Post for some fact checking on this particular statistic.

My final note is this – I share my experience because it is real and raw and I know there are others who may find it relatable. I also share it in an attempt to hack away at the stigmatization of abortion. I do NOT share my experience with the intention or assertion that anyone else’s feelings are not valid. I recognize and respect that some women may truly feel sadness, pain, or regret about their abortion and that is okay. I know that I made the right decision for myself and my body, though my decision may not be right for everybody.

#IStandWithPP

Love,

No

“You think my pussy is worth the $8 it cost you to get me that vodka soda that came in a clear plastic solo cup?”

Today I was with a male co-worker and a male client at lunch. My client asked me, “Why do women have to go to the bathroom in packs when they are at a club or a bar?”

My immediate response: “Because we need to stay together to protect each other.”

I don’t think he liked my answer.

The reality is that nights out on the town can get scary when you’re a woman. I have been quite the party animal from a young age, so I have plenty of experience on the party scene. My most recent experiences have been in the city; at bars, clubs, lounges, happy hours, restaurants, and more. I have been the protector and the protected. I have been forced to fight off men, verbally and even physically, both for myself and for the people I care about. I have been made to feel so uncomfortable that I have left bars where I do not feel safe. I have held my friends as they leave clubs in tears after being grabbed at like a piece of meat. I have seen it all it seems.

Just a quick disclaimer: I don’t mean to sound dramatic. My friends and I have fun. There are plenty of decent establishments out there that don’t tolerate sexual misbehavior of any kind. I have met perfectly decent men that have either approached myself/my friends respectfully and/or actually aided in our rescue from other men. Unfortunately, the frequency at which the social experience becomes dark is so high that I still feel this is worth posting about.

Don’t know what I’m talking about?

When men accuse you of being a lesbian because you are not interested in their advances.

(Because there is no possible way that a straight woman could maybe just NOT BE INTERESTED.)

When you tell an aggressive man to back off so he just moves on to a friend.

(I meant BACK OFF. None of us are interested in your inappropriate behavior.)

When men come up behind you and touch your body without asking.

(In no way is it ever okay to touch someone’s body without consent. Ever. It is not sexy to violate someone, regardless of the setting or whether or not they have been drinking. Who taught you that my body was your property?)

When men become irate because you won’t sleep with them even though they bought you a drink.

(Really? You think my pussy is worth the $8 it cost you to get me that vodka soda that came in a clear plastic solo cup? You could buy me a live fucking tiger and it wouldn’t mean that I owe you sex.)

When men insult you after they hit on you and you reject them.

(Just because I am not interested in you sexually doesn’t mean I deserve to be bullied. Just because I said “I’m sorry, not tonight”, doesn’t mean I am a horrible person that deserves to be called names. Is your ego really that fragile?)

When you straight up say “no” to a man and they just won’t back off.

(Why don’t men know that “no” means “no”?)

About a year ago I was at a bar (that I haven’t been to since) with my current roommate/best friend. We were approached by two men that were somewhat dorky and average looking (not that that is relevant to their behavior). The one that spoke to me was a try hard. He was clearly spitting game at me. He asked me where I went to school, and when I told him he went off about how he has visited that campus so many times and loved partying there. I asked him what his favorite bar was on campus…and he couldn’t name one.

I called him out. I told him not to make things up, that he didn’t need “lines” to impress me, that I would prefer he just talk to me. At first I thought he understood.

He kept saying a lot of aggressive things asserting that I wasn’t interested in him, and challenging me. As if I should tell him now if I’m not going to sleep with him so that he doesn’t have to make small talk with me anymore. The more he said these things, the more and more uncomfortable I felt. But his friend was still talking to my roommate, and I couldn’t tell if she was interested, so I tried to hold out a bit longer. The straw that broke the camel’s back was when I told him I was going to run to the restroom, and he was instantly furious.

“So are you actually going to come back, should I even bother waiting for you?”

Dude…I have to pee.

I told him he was freaking me out. I told him I feared he was getting angry at every instance that signaled I may not go home with him tonight. He assured me that he had no expectations. I carried on listening to him peacock-ing, until I couldn’t take it any longer. I grabbed my roomie and we ran to the bathroom. After the bathroom we escaped to a different bar on the strip.

Later in the evening, while we were waiting for an Uber home, we heard a man call out to us. It was him.

“That is the girl who wouldn’t sleep with me! You win some, you lose some, am I right?”

He cackled at me from across the street. It was terrifying.

A lot of these sort of situations have one or both of two parties at fault, just in my opinion. I will explain them in no particular order.

I think women are taught not to say no to men. I think women are taught that we should be grateful for any and all sexual/romantic attention, because our entire self worth should be based on this almost exclusively. What men think of us equals our value.

For the majority of my life, even from my earliest years interacting with boys in my pre-teens, I avoided directly rejecting men at all cost. There are an array of excuses that I’ve developed, and that I’ve witnessed other women use as well.

“I’m not into men.” Yes, I mentioned the “lesbian excuse” earlier. Maybe our use of this excuse has enabled the prescription that men give to women who actually just say “no”.

“I have to go to the bathroom.” Again, another excuse that I was accused of making earlier in my post, even though in that instance it wasn’t just an excuse.

“I have a boyfriend.”

“Tonight is a girls-only night.”

We need to start teaching girls that it is okay to say “no”. We need to empower women to be direct. There is a polite way to turn away a man’s attention, and it doesn’t have to be a watered down excuse. We need women to know that their safety and consent are more important than a man’s fragile ego.

But we also need to teach men that “no” means “no”.

I, and many other women, HAVE said no. We shouldn’t have to say anything else.

This is rape culture.

I would be curious to know, if I really have readers who make it all the way through my lengthy posts, why you think this phenomenon occurs? Do you have any similar horror stories? Do you have any examples of male advocates who HAVE made you feel safe?

I think it is up to all of us, of all genders on the spectrum, to ensure that we no longer enable rape culture to exist. We need to call out the perpetrators, and we need to empower others to do so as well.

Love,

Chubby

“You like my body.”

Being a big girl plays a huge role in my sexuality. I don’t think people realize how much being fat changes a person’s sexual/romantic experience.

I am 5’8″ and I wear a size 18. I have felt like a big girl all my life, even though for the majority of it I was not. In high school I wore a size 12 while my pre-pubescent friends were all wearing a size 0. I look back at pictures of myself and think, “how could I have ever thought I was fat?”

My senior year of high school I gained a lot of weight and got up to maybe a size 16. When I realized how much weight I had gained I started dieting and was able to lose 30 pounds in three months.

Once I went to college I started gaining the weight back, slowly. My sophomore year of college my boyfriend of the time took me shopping as a Christmas present. He bought me a couple dresses. On the car ride home he confessed to me that he wanted me to start losing weight. I was a size 14 at the time. I thought I had a wonderful day, feeling beautiful trying on dresses on this boyfriend-funded shopping spree. Then he crushed me.

By senior year of college I was up to a size 18. Since then I have lost and re-gained weight intermittently, but I have never really gotten back to my ideal size.

Now here I am, single, in the city, trying to date, trying to stay as healthy as possible, trying so hard to build my life here. I have a friend who is also single and new to the city, and I watch her go on dates with guys she meets online. She complains to me about how hard it is to date here. She has no idea how much harder it is for ME.

There are a lot of judgements that others make about fat people. There are a lot of assumptions. There are a lot of microaggressions directed towards fat people. If you don’t know what a microaggression is you should probably look it up.

One of the worst things that has always bothered me is the way that people so blatantly disclude you from normal dating activities. It seems to me that no other physical characteristic omits you from the dating scene as much as being fat does.

In college I was in a sorority, so there were a lot of formal/semi-formal events to go to, a lot of date parties, etc. It was very very common that single people would get set up for these events. I almost never was.

None of my friends ever set me up with a date because they assumed that their male friends would not be attracted to me because I was fat. And I get it. Young, gym-going, frat-stars on the majority probably would not be attracted to me. But did my friends never stop to think even one time that I noticed that I was always excluded?

I also get a lot of back handed compliments. “Wow, that is so flattering on you.” Could it maybe just look nice on me? Or is my fat body so horrendous that the best it gets is when a piece of clothing is simply able to HIDE (aka flatter) my body?

My other favorite move is when men like let me know that it is okay that I’m big and they still like me anyways. Some of them even fetish-ize it in a way. They tell me they don’t like thin women. 1) Why do you assume that I feel uncomfortable with my size and that they have to let me know like “not to worry” about it because they are still into me “anyways”??? You like my body. You don’t have to explain why you like it as if it is such a weird and rare thing that someone could be attracted to my body. 2) You don’t like thin women? Really? If I put a Megan Fox or some other super hot thin girl in front of you, you’re telling me you wouldn’t be attracted to her? Also sizing me up to other women is not the way to compliment me? Also why do you have to put down other women to make me feel good?

Being fat makes online dating much more difficult.

I post up to date pictures on my dating profiles but I don’t tend to keep photos around that I look big in. I don’t mean to deceive people with the photos I choose to put online, but what am I supposed to do, put on my most fat revealing outfit and do a photo shoot?

There is always the fear that men won’t be attracted to you once they meet you in person. That fear is there for anyone. But can you imagine how much that fear is escalated when you are a big girl?

In my dating profiles I specify that I am plus sized. My tag line is “Open minded, intelligent, sexual, liberal, plus sized, dog person, 420. If you’re not cool with any of these things please don’t waste my time.” How more honest and straightforward could I possibly be here?

One time a really fit looking man was messaging me and I told him there was no way his profile was real because a man who was so into working out would never be interested in me. He responds “oh my god, you are not big!” Okay…stop. I didn’t ask you to tell me I am not fat. I was not fishing for compliments.

Chubby people still have sexualities. We don’t have to hide our bodies to be considered sexy. Our bodies don’t need to be excused for a person to be attracted to us. Fat people are not the only ones who are attracted to fat people.

I may come back to update this post but that is all for now folks.

Love,

Anonymous Bitch