When people tell me "They're just fictional characters", I feel bad for that person because their imagination is so stunted that they can't feel the life breathing from the characters that are alive in ways they cannot ever understand.
Can you relate? You sit in your towel after a shower because you're too lazy to get dressed. You and your best friend can say one word, and crack up. You hate when one string of your hoodie is longer than the other. You hate it when people think you like someone when you clearly don't. You hate it when your favorite song comes on, as you pull into the driveway. You feel like if you turn on the lights, you will be safe from anything. You push those little buttons on the lids of fast-food drinks. You laugh until people get hurt, then stop when you realize it's serious. You hate it when parents get serious about something funny you tell them. You hate when you tell a guy to shut up and they copy you in a higher voice. You pretend to sleep when your parents come in. You text the person next to you things that you can't say out loud. You hate when people in front of you walk really slow and you can't get past them. You're always tired no matter how much sleep you get. You stop the microwave before it hits 00:00 to avoid hearing the beeps. You use the "sup" head nod. You just did the nod after you read it. You hate when you are mad at someone and they make you laugh. You check the fridge every ten seconds to see if food magically appeared.
She first heard the front door open and then slam shut while she was washing the dishes. The quick ascent to the second floor and the swift opening of a bedroom door confirmed her thoughts: Her daughter has arrived. Quickly rinsing the dishes, Mother found herself outside her eldest daughter’s door, debating whether to enter or not.
She snuck a peek.
Her daughter was crying on the bed. Mother was sitting beside her in an instant, holding her close to her chest. Her daughter curled into her.
Mother never spoke without thinking, never pried into business unless asked. She never questioned her daughter’s tears. She knew that all her daughter needed was her hands, her arms, her comfort and warmth.
"They were using me, Mama." the young, beautiful child sobbed.
Mother listened to her daughter.
"I’m so tired of being bullied, taunted and teased by people who don’t even know me. And I even tried to reach out to them, believe me, Mama. I really did."
Mother nodded, asking her to continue.
"It came to a point that they tried to set my hair on fire and lock me in the laboratory during an earthquake drill. I couldn’t stand it anymore. I just had to do something" She hid her face.
Mother felt alarmed. Had her daughter done something bad? Did she hurt them? Did she get expelled? Poor sweet girl. She felt afraid for her child.
"What happened?" Mother whispered.
"I… I shouted, ‘What did you want from me? You want my money? Take it. My clothes? Take it. My books? Go, get them now.’ I was so tired of all the pain and horror they brought to my life. I asked them to visit the chapel with me. They refused. I went there myself. And my prayer was out of fury, desperation, pain! Mama it breaks my heart every single time. The cutthroat words they spill on me, every snide comment and every harsh gesture. What have I done?
Before Mother could barely speak, her daughter stood up and went to the corner of the room, where her Bible was held delicately by a customized holder she carved with her own creative fingers.
"Alas my child, this is a challenge not for the weak, but for those who God believes can be strong."
Her daughter bowed her head.
Mother continued. “You are beautiful, and God is increasing your faith with these people. These worldly friends you have? Don’t lose hope on them.”
Her daughter knelt before the Bible, tears flowing down her face.
Mother spoke once more. “I have never been the best mother to you, but I try, hija. Just remember that God wants us to humble ourselves, but never let others bring you down. Stand up for what is righteous. Stay firm with God etched on your mind and heart.”
Mother stood up and headed to the door.
She looked back. “If they bring you fire, be as cool as water. Wash the anger away. God’s love should always be in your heart. God’s plans always endure. He will be there, when all else fails. And with Him? Under His emanating grace? You will be, forever in Victory.”
And Mother entrusted her daughter in the arms of the Father who is mighty yet loving.
I used to investigate child abuse and neglect. I can tell you how to stop the vast majority of abortion in the world.
First, make knowledge and access to contraception widely available. Start teaching kids before they hit puberty. Teach them about domestic violence and coercion, and teach them not to coerce and rape. Create a strong, loving community where women and girls feel safe and supported in times of need. Because guess what? They aren’t. You know what happens to babies born under such circumstances? They get hurt, unnecessarily. They get sick, unnecessarily. They get removed from parents who love them but who are unprepared for the burden of a child. Resources? Honey, we try. There aren’t enough resources anywhere. There are waiting lists, and promises, and maybes. If the government itself can’t hook people up, what makes you think an impoverished single mom can handle it?
Abolish poverty. Do you have any idea how much childcare costs? Daycare can cost as much or more than monthly rent. They may be inadequately staffed. Getting a private nanny is a nice idea, but they don’t come cheap either. Relatives? Do they own a car? Does the bus run at the right times? Do they have jobs of their own they need to work just to keep the lights on? Are they going to stick around until you get off you convenience store shift at 4 AM? Do they have criminal histories that will make them unsuitable as caregivers when CPS pokes around? You gonna pay for that? Who’s going to pay for that?
End rape. I know your type errs on the side of blaming the woman, but I’ve seen little girls who’ve barely gotten their periods pregnant because somebody thought raping preteens was an awesome idea. You want to put a child through that? Or someone with a mental or physical inability for whom pregnancy would be frightening, painful or even life-threatening? I’ve seen nonverbal kids who had their feet sliced up by caregivers for no fucking reason at all, you think sexual abuse doesn’t happen either?
You say there’s lots of couples who want to adopt. Kiddo, what they want to adopt are healthy white babies, preferably untainted by the wombs and genetics of women with alcohol or drug dependencies. I’ve seen the kids they don’t want, who almost no one wants. You people focus only on the happy pink babies, the gigglers, the ones who grow and grow with no trouble. Those are not the kids who linger in foster care. Those are certainly not the older kids and teenagers who age out of foster care and then are thrown out in the streets, usually with an array of medical and mental health issues. Are they too old to count?
And yeah, I’ve seen the babies, little hand-sized things barely clinging to life. There’s no glory, no wonder there. There is no wonder in a pregnant woman with five dollars to her name, so deep in depression you wonder if she’ll be alive in a week. Therapy costs money. Medicine costs money. Food, clothes, electricity cost money. Government assistance is a pittance; poverty drives women and girls into situations where they are forced to rely on people who abuse them to survive. (I’ve been up in more hospitals than I can count.)
In each and every dark pit of desperation, I have never seen a pro-lifer. I ain’t never seen them babysitting, scrubbing floors, bringing over goods, handing mom $50 bucks a month or driving her to the pediatrician. I ain’t never seen them sitting up for hours with an autistic child who screams and rages so his mother can get some sleep while she rests up from working 14-hour days. I don’t see them fixing leaks in rundown houses or playing with a kid while the police prepare to interview her about her sexual abuse. They’re not paying for the funerals of babies and children who died after birth, when they truly do become independent organisms. And the crazy thing is they think they’ve already done their job, because the child was born!
Aphids give birth, girl. It’s no miracle. You want to speak for the weak? Get off your high horse and get your hands dirty helping the poor, the isolated, the ill and mentally ill women and mothers and their children who already breathe the dirty air. You are doing nothing, absolutely nothing, for children. You don’t have a flea’s comprehension of injustice. You are not doing shit for life until you get in there and fight that darkness. Until you understand that abortion is salvation in a world like ours. Does that sound too hard? Do you really think suffering post-birth is more permissible, less worthy of outrage?
“Pro-life” is simply a philosophy in which the only life worth saving is the one that can be saved by punishing a woman.
Before we talk about him, let’s talk about you. You need to be the kind of person you would want to date. Get your shit together and leave the needy, clingy, broken version of yourself behind. You are not going to look for a boyfriend because you’re lonely, or worse, on rebound. You are not going to settle for who’s available and willing, because that will never last. Neither are you are going to stay in a wilting relationship just because you’re afraid to be alone and you find comfort in the familiar.
Actually, you’re not even going to look for a boyfriend at all, because you know that the universe will lead him to you when you are ready