I grew up in one of the 13 states that had a trigger law enacted after the Supreme Court’s decision on Roe v. Wade was announced, affirming that abortions were no longer a constitutionally protected right. I immediately lost my ability to have a legal abortion. This is nothing but reflective of the ways that growing up in the community that I did has influenced my sexual and reproductive health. Sex, orgasms, abortions, and other related topics were all taboo words that created an environment where I was scared of ever needing to buy Plan B in case the cashier at the closest CVS recognized me. In light of the incoming administration that is about to take control of America, I fear for every young girl from my state and other red states who is about to have her rights even further restricted.
There was no place for any discussion of this forbidden topic in my household, to the point that I was only able to get on birth control because my dermatologist recommended it for my acne. I was taught nothing about safe sex until eighth grade, where the remarkably clear message was the only way to have completely safe sex is to not have sex. Even as I moved through high school and had a serious boyfriend, I never felt comfortable talking about anything without the fear of being judged. My parents placed me in environments where celibacy was expected, creating a self-imposed island that left me trapped without someone to confide in. I was deathly afraid that they would one day find something that would cause them to question their child’s purity; to this day, I have yet to tell my mother about a single hook-up, situationship, or partner I have had at this school.
When I finally managed to schedule a gynecologist appointment, it was only until I had been sexually active for over a year. I needed birth control, but my dermatologist couldn’t prescribe it directly, forcing me to seek care elsewhere. I knew that I needed to have an honest conversation for the sake of my sexual health, but I refused to open up to my doctor until they forced my mom to leave the room. I immediately broke down in tears, sobbing as I recanted all of the information I had just told my doctor. If it hadn’t been for doctor-patient confidentiality, I would have had no safe space to have an honest conversation.
By the time I left my home for college, my stance on reproductive rights was a stark contrast to that of my community. I am lucky that I was able to attend college in a state where abortions are legal up until viability. Many of my friends from home started college knowing that if they ever needed an abortion, they would need to travel to a different state in order to access one legally, and most importantly, safely.
In contrast, I have the privilege of being able to access abortion services directly through Harvard’s health services, a resource I am deeply grateful for. The status of reproductive rights in my state is one of the reasons I will never move back as concern grows that women will soon no longer be able to access certain contraceptives.
College has given me the opportunity to surround myself with friends who do not shame me for the choices I make with my body. I have access to all of the health services that I may need—a fundamental right I only fully realized upon leaving home. While I wish I had grown up in an environment more accepting of reproductive freedom, my experience has made me painfully aware of the dangers that emerge when women are shamed for having sex. Having awkward conversations is essential for protecting women from lifelong diseases and preventing medical complications that could be life-threatening. Every woman deserves the freedom to make informed choices about her body and not be left to guess or act out of fear, too afraid to ask for the help she needs.
Anonymous proudly voted to repeal the abortion ban in their state.