Letters to women getting abortions

Dear Dad,

I’ve seen this letter floating around social media lately, maybe you have too. It’s by blogger Matt Walsh, and is a letter penned to a woman who wrote about her upcoming abortion. Walsh makes a plea on his own blog to share the post from The Blaze (DoNotLink), which begs the woman not to go through with the procedure.

When I first read the letter, it made me angry, then it made me laugh, then it made me sad. As I took some distance from it, I thought about how it embodies a lot of the pro-life ideas I was taught growing up, and how I respond to those same ideas now. It seemed fitting to dissect the letter here.

First, it doesn’t start out on very good footing. Walsh begins by calling the writer’s motives into question, and even questioning the veracity of the letter:

I can’t be sure that you even exist or that your letter was sincere. This could be some kind of sick joke. You could be a pro-choice propagandist, fabricating another story to help get rid of the ‘taboo’ surrounding infanticide. I don’t know. But I’m going to assume, right now, that this is all legitimate. I’m going to speak to you like you are real, like you are really planning to do this, because whether you are or not, everything I’ll say to you also applies to any woman in the same position.

Already, Walsh’s letter was a little off-putting to me. To write a letter that you claim is to help a woman in need, and accuse her of lying at the beginning? I can’t say I went into this letter with very much respect for the Walsh.

This beginning also serves to delegitimize the woman’s own writing about her abortion, which he then quotes. Even before you have a chance to read her post, Walsh has planted the seeds of doubt.

He also says that Reddit mods are deleting any responses to the original post that don’t congratulate the woman. I have no evidence of this, and Walsh doesn’t provide any either. It should be also pointed out that Reddit organizes responses to posts by popularity, so if his critique of this woman’s decision wasn’t popular, you’d have to slog through a lot of responses to find it at the bottom.

On to the original post: The woman writes it to her potential child. She says she can feel that she is pregnant now, but isn’t ready to be a mother. She wants to provide the best life possible for her child, she says, but she’s not ready for that now. She has thought this decision over carefully, weighed the consequences, and knows that it’s not the right time for her to have a baby now. The letter is fairly poetic and moving, and I appreciated it.

Walsh says that he can tell that she’s unhappy, though:

I felt the sadness and hesitation in your words. The fact that you published it in the first place proves that you are not completely sure about what you are planning to do. I think you want to be talked up or talked down. You want to hear what people have to say about it, which is the only reason anyone ever posts personal things on the internet.

This part seemed kind of ironic to me. Here is Walsh, talking about how the only reason people publish things on the Internet is to get advice, and he’s publishing a personal letter. Maybe he wants to be talked down.

It never occurs to him that people also write to record events, or to persuade others? (It does, since he’s already accused the writer of making “propaganda.”) People write and publish things for many reasons. I’ve written about very personal issues, including my body image and maintenance. I wasn’t looking for people to convince me to shave again, or tell me to lose weight. I was sharing my story so that hopefully other women would know they don’t have to fit into a tiny box of what is perceived acceptable.

Walsh is bringing a lot of his own assumptions to this letter, telling us much more about his own feelings than the woman’s.

He goes on to talk about the woman’s child, and how precious it is. This is the center of pro-life discourse: The babies. The children.

Who am I to say this to you? Nobody, really. I’m nobody. I’m nothing. But your child is someone. You child is something.

This part is especially telling, to me, as it illustrates a very common theme in pro-life arguments: The adult, the fully formed person is not as important as the potential child. Walsh has less regard for himself than the fetus, just as many pro-lifers have less regard for the mother than for the possibility of the child. The woman’s physical and emotional well-being are nothing compared to the bundle of cells she carries.

Walsh goes on to say that the writer is wrong that she can have that child again, as she had stated. And I would say that he’s correct here. If she gets pregnant again, that child won’t be the same as this fetus. That doesn’t mean she’s obligated to carry this pregnancy out. It’s not the point.

And then he tries to tell the woman that she should listen to her heart in making this decision (as if no woman could ever not want to be a mom), warns that she will live with a lifetime of regret and accuses pro-choice people of using her potential child as a pawn.

I know some other Reddit users commented and told you that you won’t regret this decision. They are lying to you. Don’t listen to them. Listen to your heart. The same heart that prompted you to write that letter and feel those thing for your child. Listen to it, not the broken and deceitful masses who want to claim your baby’s death as a victory for their side of an argument. Your little one is just a pawn to them. They don’t love him like you do. They don’t love him at all. But down to the very pit of your soul you feel something for your baby that you’ve never felt for anyone.

There’s a couple things to unpack here, but this is one of the most important sections of the letter.

First, Walsh says the mother will regret this decision. It reads almost like a threat, to me. It’s half true: Some women who obtain abortions regret them. Others do not.

Just like tattoos, which are also permanent, some people regret the decision. Others think it’s the best decision they’ve ever made. But if I thought tattoos were awful, I still wouldn’t have the right to tell other people what they can and can’t do with their bodies.

Furthermore, how many women regret their decision to have an abortion because of the shame we place around it? How many feel cut off, isolated because of people screaming at them that it’s genocide? (Check out this great post on a gynecologist who actually lived through genocide for some perspective on why that argument is so offensive.)

Walsh then says that “the broken and deceitful masses” want to use this woman’s child as “a pawn,” that they are using her abortion for their cause. This part legitimately made me laugh, before I was very sad.

Walsh is using this potential child, threatening the woman with a “void” in her life if she goes through with this procedure. No one is using this “little one” as a pawn more than Walsh.

Walsh even tries to put her fetus up for adoption:

I mentioned your story on Facebook last week and asked if any of my Facebook friends could offer resources to help you. Well, they gave more than that. Numerous people came forward offering to adopt your child.

Translation: Plenty of people want this baby. Why don’t you? Alternate translation: You’re a bad person for not going through with this pregnancy and giving us the baby.

Walsh completely skips over the fact that we’re still talking about a pregnant woman, and women are not required to carry your children for you. We’re not incubators, no matter what conservative lawmakers believe. Having choice is about having bodily autonomy, and Walsh tries to wave that all away by saying, “We’ll take that kid off your hands!”

I used to think the same thing. When I was a kid, I thought, “I’ll adopt tons of babies when I’m an adult so no woman ever has to have an abortion again!” I didn’t realize that I don’t have the right to force women to bear children and give them to me. Walsh still doesn’t.

Then Walsh throws the typical, “Abortion clinics are evil,” argument in:

An abortion clinic will take your child’s life and kick you out the door. But pregnancy centers and Christian charities will walk with you, step by step, and never leave your side.

I’ve been to a Planned Parenthood, one of the main abortion providers that pro-lifers want to shut down. I don’t know if Walsh has ever been inside one, or gotten a check-up.

They’re much more than the typical doctors’ offices I’ve visited. My nurse asked me about my relationship, asked if I felt safe. She checked that it was okay to call the number I’d given her. This is a level of care you don’t get from most doctors, and I got it at a facility that also provides abortions. Had I heard her words a year earlier, it might have given me the push I needed to get out of a toxic relationship. As it is, I’m grateful to know that I have Planned Parenthood there should I need it.

Crisis pregnancy centers, on the other hand, have a habit of lying to women about breast cancer, abortion and infertility. None of that seems very supportive of women.

Finally, Walsh pleads with the woman that she has a choice:

You don’t have to go through with this tomorrow. It’s such a tragic irony that the people who support abortion call it ‘pro-choice,’ yet so often, the women who get abortions do so because they feel they have no choice.

And this is just some frustrating twisting of language, as Walsh has spent most of the letter threatening the woman with how much she’ll regret this decision. She’s weighed her options, she’s made a decision, and she was able to make that decision because the options were all available to her. It’s called pro-choice because she can make a choice, instead of being obligated to go through with this pregnancy.

It’s still weird to me how people who advocate eliminating choices for women want to say that it’s about choice. I don’t think I’ll ever get it.

In the end, Dad, it’s all about that choice. It’s about making sure that people like Matt Walsh can’t make decisions for this woman. It’s about bodily autonomy. I don’t have the right to tell her what decision to make, and neither does Matt Walsh. She knows herself the best, and this decision is hers and hers alone.



P.S. Sorry for the length! You know I’m a wordsmith, Dad.

Burning the brassiere: One woman’s struggle for comfort and women’s liberation

Dear Dad,

I know living in a house with me when I was a teenager, you had an up-close-and-personal experience of what most girls experience going through puberty. Maybe too personal: Remember sitting up all night with me as I cried that time I had terrible cramps?

You also had a front row seat to the struggles I went through trying to find a bra that fit. First, I was wearing Target bras that were woefully too small, and wore out quickly. Then, I found bras that fit, but I had to shell out close to $200 for two. Working my way through college, I often didn’t have money to buy bras when I needed them, and had to suffer for months with ill-fitting, worn-out contraptions that left me with bruises and sometimes cuts.

Lately, I’ve been working three jobs, and my bra pain has only gotten worse. Because my body is constantly fatigued, it’s difficult for my bruises to heal, and putting on a bra brings almost instant, excruciating pain.

So I stopped wearing bras.


I’ve taken to wearing bathing suit tops or shelf bras. The shape isn’t the same, I don’t look like Betty Page anymore, but I’m also able to concentrate at work.

It’s been a struggle emotionally. I’ve been raised in a world where women’s breasts are portrayed as beautifully sculpted globes that just stay perky through antigravity or something. As a voluptuous woman, I learned to tie my sense of beauty, attractiveness and self worth to my breasts and the way my bra shaped them. Going out of the house in a shelf bra, I’ve felt as if everyone is staring at me and wondering why my breasts are so saggy.


Throughout my whole individual saga, I’ve been thinking about the “bra-burning feminist” stereotype that is so often thrown around to discredit feminists as extremists. I remember you telling me stories, Dad, of the feminists when you were in college who burnt their bras and hit men who opened doors for them.

In fact, feminists as bra-burners is a complete myth, fabricated to discredit the women’s movement. Jennifer Lee, director of the documentary “Feminist: Stories from Women’s Liberation,” explains what she learned about the 1968 Miss America protests in the making of her film:

Bras were just one of the items protestors were encouraged to bring that day that signified how the male-dominated culture was keeping women locked into rigid ideas of beauty, but they weren’t burned. Starting a fire on the boardwalk was illegal, so protestors opted to Playboy magazines and other items in a Freedom Trash Can. Still, the bra-burning image remained—a symbol that was easy to belittle as women focusing on something trivial. Misinformation and myths sometimes serve as placeholders in our memory when facts are not remembered.

“Bra-burning,” or rather, throwing items that represented the oppression women faced into the trash, was a symbolic gesture, an act of defiance and liberation. I too, am trying to liberate myself from a beauty paradigm that has brought me pain and bodily harm, Dad. The more I think about it (and every time I put my bra back on) the more convinced I become that being a bra-burner is being a woman who asserts her right to comfort over rigid beauty standards. (Literally, those underwires are stiff and painful.)

Of course, I support anyone’s right to wear a bra if they want, but I’m also speaking out for the women who don’t want to, who are tired of strapping themselves in every morning, who are sick of tracing the bruises on their ribs. Burn your bras, ladies! Wear what makes you happy!


Achieving parity

Dear Dad,

I saw another study about women’s representation in movies and was reminded of our brief conversation on the topic a few months back.

First, some summaries of this study:

  • Globally, there are 2.24 males for every female character.
  • Only about 30 percent of speaking or named characters are female.
  • Only 20.5 percent of filmmakers are female.
  • Female characters are more likely to be sexualized, skinny, or wearing sexy clothes. (Almost twice as often as male characters)
  • In films for children, female characters are even more likely to be thin than in films targeted at adults.
  • Women make up only 23.2 percent of the U.S. workforce in films, but 46.3 percent of the workforce in real life.
  • Comments about appearance were directed at women at FIVE TIMES the rate they were directed at men.

In my last post, I talked about how women make up about 17 percent of crowd scenes in movies, as well as about 17 percent of leadership positions in real life. You replied that women are rapidly surpassing men in holding bachelor’s degrees, and that the gender pay gap is nigh but a thing of the past. And that is encouraging (though if you read that story, you’ll realize that the reason women are graduating at higher rates is because they can’t get a lucrative job without a degree, so they’re more willing to take on student debt than men, who have more job opportunities available regardless of education, and student debt is a whole other issue that saddles students of lower socio-economic status and any gender, but I digress).

You also mention negative portrayals of dads in media, and you’re right! This is a shame! The “dad-as-dumb-couch-potato” trope is harmful to men! And it perpetuates stereotypes that are harmful to families and women. These are important media critiques to make, and I should add that the slacker dad plays into the “mother runs the home” trope, keeping Mom in the kitchen and taking care of the kids because that is her purview. The slacker dad trope perpetuates ideas of masculinity as being animalistic and lazy, thus giving men a free pass on participation at home. It’s refreshing and encouraging to see positive portrayals of engaged fathers. It’s one of the reasons “Boy Meets World” is still one of my favorite sitcoms. “How I Met Your Mother” is another sitcom, this one geared at adults, that features passionate, engaged dads. They sometimes make silly goofs, but that doesn’t make them buffoons. They can be funny without being stupid, and I appreciate that.

But on the topic of women surpassing men in the job market, even the articles you point me to say that that hasn’t yet happened. Certainly, the gap is closing, but we’re nowhere near equality. On John Oliver’s “Last Week Tonight” segment on the pay gap, one pundit points out that unmarried, childless women between the age of 35 and 43 make 108 cents to a man’s dollar. Which is like, great if you don’t want to have kids or get married or ever turn 44. But we shouldn’t be restricting women’s options in the name of fairness!

The full, thorough, hilarious segment here:

And, as the fabulous documentary “Miss Representation” points out (I really liked that movie, okay?), an interesting thing happened when women first started to make forays into the job market: Media representations of women became far more toxic. In fact, as women continue to make headway, our counterparts on television become weaker and more sexualized, perpetuating harmful stereotypes. This is a way of making equality harder to achieve.

Just because we’ve made progress doesn’t mean we don’t have more to get done. And the latest study on representation in media shows that there is still so much to do.



A sexism-free Destiny

Dear Dad,

I’ve written before about sexism in video games, and there’s been a lot of attention to gaming’s toxic attitude toward women by awesome feminists like Anita Sarkeesian. You know I’m very passionate about how media portrays women and impacts our opinion toward women, and a lot of that shows in critique of TV, movies, games, music, etc. Today, though, I wanted to give a little shout-out to a game that didn’t make me feel othered, not one bit.

I’ve been playing a lot of Destiny. If you’re not familiar, it’s a first-person shooter MMO by the creators of Halo (it was billed as Halo’s successor). The game is pretty fun. Gameplay is awesome, the weapons are cool, the worlds are beautiful, and over all it’s a pretty solid game. It’s taken some harsh criticism for not living up to all the hype prior to its release, and understandably so. It sort of just ends after level 20, and then you have to play a bunch of repetitive missions to make any progress. But I’m not too bothered by this because again, the weapons are super fun to shoot.

Now, as I was mainlining this game immediately after its release, it occurred to me that never, not once, did I feel alienated by it (which is humorous because you visit different planets, lol). What do I mean? I mean that I never saw a female character portrayed as a sex object. There are no women in the game as decoration or to titillate. There are plenty of female NPCs, but they are about as sexualized as the males, which is not at all. The shipwright’s character, for instance, really appealed to me because she’s obviously a woman, but also the expert on building ships to take you across the galaxy. It’s a woman in engineering!

A screenshot of the shipwright in Destiny. The computer-animated white woman has blond hair, a leather jacket and a red sash over her shoulders. The screen also shows options for purchasing vehicles.

Amanda Holliday, the shipwright, has serious skills and some serious attitude, too.

And when I first created my character, I elected to play as a woman as well. I selected the Titan class (that’s the warriors) and selected her face shape, hair color, eye color, etc. They even had a pretty solid variety of facial shapes so the women don’t all have to have the tiny-chin-tiny-nose-giant-eye-Disney-princess look. I selected a face with strong cheekbones, and a big strong nose.

My character is also dressed appropriately for battle, in heavy armor to withstand the harshest blows. The armor is fairly similar to the male armor, except that the female characters are a little bit smaller than their male counterparts. Nowhere did I have to show some leg or cleavage. This is the same for Hunters and Warlocks, as well. In the post-Apocalyptic world of Destiny, men and women are realistically covered up to protect against the elements and their enemies, instead of showing skin to arouse the male gamer.

A screenshot of a video game character in futuristic full-body armor.

My character, a Titan, is equipped with a helmet, chest guard, leg protection and gauntlets. She wears a sash around her waist to show off achievements. She is not sexualized.

I bring all this up, Dad, because I want to show how easy it is to make a fun, edgy game without objectifying women. And this game is edgy. You live in the last human city, alien creatures are around every corner trying to destroy you, and you visit all these eerily barren planets that were once human colonies but have since been destroyed. I find it super creepy and I totally love it. Plus, I never feel uncomfortable or unwelcome. This was a game created with me in mind.



What it means to support all women, and what that means for Joni Ernst

Dear Dad,

Read your latest post. So good to see you back!

You make an interesting point with the lack of feminist support for Joni Ernst. “Instead of being celebrated for her accomplishments (Ernst) is demonize (sic) for her political viewpoints,” you write in your post. It seems hypocritical that feminism would advocate for women in leadership, and yet not support all women who seek leadership positions, you say. Unfortunately, the link to the Washington Post article you included didn’t work, so I had to do some of my own research. I can only assume you linked to the George Will opinion piece which has since been taken down?

Ernst is, as you admit, pro-life. She, in fact, has been a staunch advocate of a “personhood amendment” in Iowa, which would assert the personhood of “any person at any stage of development,” according to this article on Ernst’s pro-life views. She also supports a ban on gay marriage at the state or federal level.

A photo of Joni Ernst, a woman with short brown hair in a plaid shirt and a vest. She stands smiling next to some stalls for livestock.

Joni Ernst. Photo by Gina Whang.

I think there’s an important distinction to be made here between supporting women and supporting equality. For instance, most feminists aren’t staunch supporters of Sarah Palin. But we are critical of the way she’s been sexualized by the media.

I remember the media coverage when she wore a jacket with zippers over her breasts, and the way the male news anchors focused not on her message, but her “nipple zippers.” As a body-conscious teenager, I found it extremely disturbing to see a woman who was nominated to be vice president reduced to a sex object. I don’t have to agree with Sarah Palin to be critical of the way she is treated by the media.

Check out this trailer of “Miss Representation” for some perspective:

(P.S. Condoleezza Rice is in this documentary, Dad, and she says some really amazing, powerful things. If you haven’t made the time to watch it, do! It’s on Netflix.)

If I saw Ernst being derided for being feminine, or weak, or if I saw her being treated as a sex object, like Sarah Palin, or if I saw people saying she’d be unstable while menstruating (like the media said about Hillary Clinton), I would speak out against that. That is never appropriate.

But part of equality is also being allowed to disagree with people.

After my research on Joni Ernst, I don’t support her as a politician. I disagree with her views on gun control, reproductive rights and gay marriage. She has been called out by liberal media for these stances. That is fair and an important part of American politics.

It also should be noted that she seeks to limit women’s access to health care, which is anti-woman, and her stance on gay marriage limits LGBT individuals’ access to equal rights as well. These are both unfeminist stances.

It is okay for feminists to disagree with women, Dad. Hell, there are feminists I disagree with. It is okay to advocate for more women in leadership but still say, as a woman, “I don’t want Joni Ernst to lead me.” That’s fine. And it’s good. It’s good to have options and variety and more women entering politics. And in politics, people disagree. In this case, I disagree with Joni Ernst’s beliefs. But if I discovered people attacking her for being a woman, you can bet I’d be there to defend her.



Get a grown-up girlfriend, er, razor

Dear Dad,

I have just seen the most infuriating commercial. Maybe you’ve seen it too. It’s the the Gilette “First Girlfriend vs. First Real Girlfriend” ad. In summary, Becky was your first girlfriend, for about three periods in seventh grade. Then there’s Sarah, your first real girlfriend, who’s super hot, and sundresses were made for her. Cue montage of Sarah in sundresses.

Now, this ad already had me upset before I even knew what they were selling. Maybe it was the way Sarah was on display mostly to show skin to titillate men. Maybe it was the way apparently girlfriends are only good for being sexy, and your relationship with your “first real girlfriend” didn’t extend beyond her looks. But then they got to the sales pitch:

At some point, every man is ready for his first real girlfriend. Just as he’s ready for his first real razor.

Did you see it? The misogyny? It’s okay, I know, it was quick. But here it is: This ad is equating women to objects. And not just objects like a thing you can own, but objects like a thing you must possess, as a right of passage. The girlfriend is no more than a razor, a way of stepping into manhood. If you haven’t had a hot girlfriend, you’re not a full man. You have to acquire one to secure your masculinity. Also shave.

The fact that this ad is targeted at young men who are just learning to shave is even more distressing, as they will internalize harmful attitudes toward women. Instead of viewing women as equals or partners, we’re viewed as acquisitions. Never mind that this ad erases the existence of queer men, or any man who chooses not to have a girlfriend (they are implied to be not real men at all).

It’s not the first ad that treats women as objects, and I’m dismayed to say that it won’t be the last, but I hope when you see ads like this, Dad, you’re aware of what they’re selling ideologically, and I hope you’re not buying it.

I know I’m not,

“Yes means yes” and other California laws

TW: Mild discussion of sexual assault

Dear Dad,

California’s laws have been in the news a lot lately (though maybe it’s just because I live here). In addition to Governor Jerry Brown signing a plastic bag ban, a “Yes means yes” law, and a ban on “gay panic” as a defense in court, the state’s 3-feet rule for avoiding cyclists has gone into effect. And let me tell you, this law has been controversial. Columnists and letter-to-the-editor writers alike have been complaining that not only is the law difficult to enforce and inconvenient, but also that cyclists should be better at obeying the rules of the road if they want “respect.”

Now, aside from the fact that everyone deserves basic safety regardless of whether or not we respect them, this bicycle law has got me thinking a lot about the laws we put into effect and how they change our lives.

See, opponents of California’s “Yes means yes” law argue that it’s hard to enforce, will make partners over-think their sexual encounters and will generally take all the fun out of boning. Cathy Young over at Time says that it “implicitly criminalizes most human sexual interaction.”

A circular badge with a Y in the middle. The outer ring reads,

But this law is not about making sexual partners into criminals (never mind that this isn’t a criminal statute, but a law about obtaining state funding for schools). This law is about changing, and hopefully improving, the way people approach sex. Now, the emphasis is placed not on simply going along with a partner, but expressing clear, enthusiastic consent, a willingness and will to engage in sexual activity. How can that be bad? Don’t we all want our partners to desire us? To really want to engage with us? Who wants to have sex with someone who doesn’t want to have sex with them? Cathy Young worries that this law will make rapists out of “clueless” guys. But if you do try to have sex with someone who doesn’t really want to, you’re already a rapist. This law doesn’t change that. It just means that if reported, your university has a carrot-stick situation to punish you, instead of trying to sweep it under the rug.

Laws like “Yes means yes” will help defend victims like Emma Sulkowicz, the artist behind “Carry That Weight,” whose alleged rapist remains on campus. It will help educate these guys that Young worries are “clueless” and innocent. And it will help with the feminist effort to change the way we talk about sex. Feminists have been pushing for years to make safe, consensual sex a part of sex education classes. This law elevates that discussion to a national level. And hopefully that discussion will mean that more people see how easily and wonderfully enthusiastic consent can be incorporated into a person’s daily sex life.

But what does this have to do with drivers giving cyclists 3 feet of space on the road? Well, people have been complaining about that too. It’s hard to enforce, they say. It’s inconvenient. Cyclists should learn to stop at every stop sign if they want drivers to give them some safety. Regardless of how you feel about the law, though, I have noticed one thing in the last couple weeks since it went into effect: Cars have been giving cyclists plenty of space. Vehicles have been more aware of alternative forms of transportation on the road. This law is already changing the way we think about driving. And everyone is a little bit safer. And that’s a good thing.

“Yes means yes” can change the way we think about sex. And that’s a good thing, too.