On Sept. 19, the day after the House of Representatives voted to defund Planned Parenthood, I told my Facebook feed that I’d had an abortion. I hit post and texted my friend, feminist writer Lindy West, who screen-grabbed my post and tweeted it to her 62,000 followers, adding the hashtag #ShoutYourAbortion.
By the end of the day, my Facebook feed was flooded with women disclosing their own abortions. Within a few days, #ShoutYourAbortion had been used 250,000 times. For once, it felt as though women’s voices were driving the national conversation.
{mosads}One in three women in the United States has an abortion before the age of 45, but compulsory silence has always been the norm, even in pro-choice communities. As #ShoutYourAbortion took off, it became clear that many of us had intentionally made ourselves invisible. This felt like a collective catharsis, long overdue.
With zero funding, an all-volunteer team built a #ShoutYourAbortion website, recorded dozens of abortion stories for our YouTube Channel, and hosted events geared towards creating spaces for people to talk about abortion. I have watched so many people get their lives back that it’s made me mourn the time that we have collectively lost. How did things get so bad that simply talking about our experiences has become a radical act?
Although abortion has been a common, legal medical procedure for 43 years, our opponents have leveraged our fear in order to snuff out our voices. We have never owned our own stories. This is how they have gotten away with calling one in three American women murderers.
As is the case in so many conversations, the right has effectively maintained control over the parameters of political discourse by baiting us into defending our own humanity. The left has responded weakly, attempting to direct the conversation away from abortion and towards healthcare, a move which has institutionalized the expectation that those who’ve had abortions should best stay quiet.
What could possibly be a less progressive tactic than defending something on the grounds that it is an unfortunate and unseemly necessity? “Safe, legal and rare,” is not a rallying cry, it is a plea for mercy. We have once again attempted political pragmatism and forgotten who in the hell we are dealing with; we have consented to a debate with people who bankroll and inspire domestic terrorists.
This fight is ours to lose. The only reason they have been able to keep us on the ropes for so long is by making sure that women do not feel safe talking about abortion on their own terms. We cannot fight for legislative progress while ignoring the cultural toxicity of silence and shame.
The United States is suspended in the sort of volatility that often directly precedes great change. As we move into this election year and toward the monumental Supreme Court decision on Texas’ arcane abortion laws, on the heels of Colorado Springs, in the midst of one of the most regressive years for abortion rights this country has ever seen, women’s perspectives are transforming the landscape of mainstream culture and the opposition is terrified.
On Jan. 22, the 43rd anniversary of Roe v Wade, #ShoutYourAbortion undertook our first nationwide action and helped people get #TogetherForAbortion with events in all fifty states.
Cultural attitudes about abortion can change, but only if we start talking about the issue.
Abortion is a complex, emotional, deeply personal issue and it is also completely normal. We’ve got to start talking to the people in our lives about why this issue matters to us. And remember, our experiences are ours to tell.
The era of compulsory silence is ending.
Bonow is a pro-choice activist who started the #ShoutYourAbortion movement.