'I Refuse to Be Burdened With a Child as a Form of Punishment'

Editor’s Note: This article previously appeared in a different format as part of The Atlantic’s Notes section, retired in 2021.

From a 19-year-old college student who says she “never told anyone” about her abortion—or the horrible situation that led to it:

Thank you for the opportunity to share my story, but please do not use my name. My demographics are Asian American female coming from a low-income family. I grew up mostly in a suburb in Ohio. My parents are the typical strict, high-expectation parents. They are also strong Baptist Christians, so that always comes with fun implications.

I never had the guts to tell anyone about my abortion because I thought I was not a special case. I was just a 19-year-old student who worked a lot and who made a mistake and decided to have an abortion. But it wasn’t like that. It was hard, and it was even harder for me to admit that I deserve peace within myself and the blessings of others. I didn’t have a life-long partner to share my troubles and thoughts with, and I went through this horrible venture all by myself.

I got pregnant with my ex-boyfriend after he raped me when I tried to end the relationship.

I tried to end the relationship because he was a loving person who cared so much for me—to the point where I felt like I was suffocating. After the breakup and rape, I often beat myself up with the fact that I initiated the breakup that made the pregnancy happen in the first place.

I didn’t know I was pregnant until I missed my period twice. The first time I attributed it to the fact that I was dealing with a lot of stress due to the breakup and college exams. When I missed my period again, I took a pregnancy test, which I tested positive for, and I came to the realization that my ex-boyfriend would father my first child.

I didn’t know what to do. I know I expressed my feelings to my friends about how I wanted to amend things with the breakup. I glided over the fact that he raped me. I can’t believe I did that.

For some time, I contemplated whether to tell him and use that as an excuse to reconnect with him. But he’s 18. No matter how “mature” I may think of him, I don’t think he would have reacted the way I would have wanted/imagined him to.

So I drove myself to Planned Parenthood after class and I checked myself in. I paid for all my appointments, tests, and the pill. I walked out and went to work.

I think about my ex-boyfriend constantly and what it would have been like if I stuck with my pregnancy. Would we have gotten back together? Would our child have thrived in this environment? Would I have been comfortable with the fact that this fetus would have entered the world under horrific circumstances where I did not consent to sex?

I had no answers. I had no one I was comfortable enough to talk to about this. My peers were fake-ID holders who were just looking for a quick fun time to get fucked up over the weekend and get high in their parents’ garage at 3 AM.

I didn’t let myself be scared because I’m in summer school and still working. I’m stressed under the pressure to do well in school and make enough money to pay for my education. I think, to an extent, it was appropriate for my parents to expect this because they didn’t know I was pregnant and had an abortion. They mercilessly pushed me to my limits and I cracked. I cried. I cried for three weeks—in my room, at the library, in the bathroom. All I thought to myself was that I was alone.

I am pro-choice, but I never thought I would have to make a choice. I never thought I would be in this situation. I can definitely attest to the fact that it’s different when you get there.

I knew it was the right choice to have an abortion. I knew I was not ready. I knew my parents wouldn’t help me. I knew I did not want this.

But something held me back. Something made me think of my ex-boyfriend. I now attribute those feelings to the fact that I am human; my body naturally wishes to reproduce and I didn’t allow that, so I feel some amalgam of guilt and sorrow.

The only thing I am sorry for is that I never told my ex-boyfriend. He has a right to know, but I’m not ready to call a recent high school graduate and tell him I aborted his first child.

I don’t know where I am headed. I wish that I could be sharing my story years afterwards and guarantee a successful life and validate my choice like the other women in this thread, but I can’t. I am a biology pre-med major and my parents taught me that education is the only way to succeed in this generation. Half of the time, I have no idea what the fuck I’m doing.

I know I made a mistake, but I refuse to be burdened with a child as a form of punishment and then not correctly raise him or her. That isn’t fair to me or my family or my child.

I’m scared shitless everyday. I’m only 19. But this journey forced me to grow the hell up and make myself okay with being scared. I may be scared, but I’m also brave for being able to merely live everyday. And I am okay with that.