I’m Tired of Being Questioned
by Nora Thomas (she/her)
Election season is worrisome. Months pass by where watching political advertisements is part of our routine, breaking news alerts us through different mediums daily and conversations are had on a regular basis about the state of our country. I would argue that not all of us are ready to have those conversations, but regardless, they still happen. And they’re not easy.
During the most recent election, how many times did you hear the words “abortion access?” How many times did your human and civil rights as a woman get questioned by the people closest to you? I grew up in a space where “my body, my choice” was a valid argument and no questions were asked. Because of this, I didn’t expect to experience the type of shame I did simply because I have a uterus only weeks before our pro-choice president-elect Joe Biden was voted into office.
One of the conversations I had before election season began was a fanatical dialogue that I think about every day. I was sitting at the dinner table on an outdoor patio with two of my closest self-identified cis-gendered male friends. We spent the majority of our time together laughing and catching up, but our conversation did turn into speaking about the now past election. The typical banter came up addressing the issues with both presidential candidates. As we got deeper into our discourse, the most prevalent issues our country is facing came up such as climate change, questioning our governmental body, and people’s access to abortion. Generally speaking, I’m more of a timid and reserved individual, especially in regard to voicing my personal thoughts and feelings. I learned during this early Fall night that that is not the case when talking about bodily autonomy and reproductive rights.
“How did Trump winning the presidency in the 2016 election directly affect your life as a woman?”
I was asked this question by one of the two cis-males I was conversing with. I didn’t have a chance to think before I started to speak with an angry tone to my voice. My hands trembled and my words shook.
“When I found out Trump won the presidency, as a 19-year-old female, my first thoughts were, ‘Where am I going to get MY birth control? How are others who menstruate going to be hurt by this?’”
Birth control has an intended use, but on top of that, it’s helpful for acne, easing menstrual cramps, regulating your cycle, and a million other reasons. This was my first thought because like many of the other people who use contraceptives, I was using it for multiple purposes and I couldn’t quite fathom why this was something I even had to worry about.
I continued explaining how dehumanizing this topic was. I talked about how I and many of my closest friends researched the risks and costs of implanted forms of contraception. We worried about not having access to birth control for a long duration of time. We were worried that the lack of access to birth control would lead to the loss of abortion access. If this was the case, how would this reflect on our future? How would it contribute to the more than half a million kids who are in foster care?
These were questions adolescent girls thought about because, yet again, there was a large scale of women whose lives were put at risk because of something that was almost out of our control.
I continued to explain why this question hurt me so bad. I thought about why men question us and why we need to justify what we want to do with our bodies. I thought about how this wasn’t fair and how as a woman, it felt like no one was on our side except for the other people with uteruses mourning around you. The worst part is, if I didn’t say anything to these men, they might not have an idea unless another woman told them.
Instances like this one start a vicious cycle. It creates a space where education around reproductive rights isn’t prioritized. This continues down the line and each generation learns these habits. The good news is that it is changing. We now have our first ever woman Vice President-Elect Kamala Harris along with other women in positions of power that can take action on these issues.
Unfortunately with this conversation, it is something I am still trying to process but it fuels me to create change. It’s infuriating to feel like just because of biological anatomy, individuals with uteruses are placed below individuals who should be our equals. The patriarchy continues to strengthen.
When presented with a situation like this, you can either take in what individuals are saying about your reproductive health or you can fight back. This conversation empowered me to figure out a way to educate with meaning behind it. As mentioned earlier, I am a shy person who generally keeps my opinions to myself. After the heat of the moment, I took a deep breath and walked away. I felt as if I had the ability to explain myself as well as others who menstruate and have a conversation around why this is so hurtful to us as humans. This switches the conversation which slowly changes the narrative. When we normalize the concept of contraception and being sex-positive, this changes opinions and judgments from others towards people with uteruses. Verbally connecting with individuals is the most powerful thing you can do to inform rather than attack.
The one positive thing that came out of this experience was how rewarding it was to stand up for myself and other people with uteruses around me. Some men might not think this way on their own, but that is why informative conversation should also change from being taboo. I was able to get my peace and I learned how important it is to me that I do whatever I can to feel like I’m valued in society. I’m more motivated than ever to continue the dialogue and empower people with uteruses to use their voice.
