I Thought Pro-Choice Meant Never Choosing To Keep The Child
My complex past with the morning after pill.
It was the second time that I was having heterosexual sex, and the man I was with came inside me. Somehow, I found the grit to demand that we go to a pharmacy. I say “somehow” because I was a teenager and he was almost thirty. Age is power. Gender is power. In this situation, the odds were not in my favor.
I don’t think he knew how brazenly uncomfortable I was. On the car ride over, he kept offering me a guilty smirk for his indiscretion. The most my mouth did in response was twitch. When we arrived at the check out counter I naively assumed that Plan B would cost as much as an Advil To-Go. L-o-hell no.
When the number flashed on the cash register he swiftly became submissive. Turning to me with slumped shoulders and earnest eyes he asked, “Do you mind if we split it?”
My words tumbled out, drenched in ice, “I don’t have my wallet.” Another mouth twitch.
Once I was back in my car, I raced home. Taking the pill immediately, I overflowed with gratitude that I had this option. To no one’s surprise, I’m sure, I decided to stop seeing him.
