“Choice”

I’m not a feminist, and I’m not a traditionalist. I don’t think that women should only care about their careers, and I don’t think they have anything to gain from meaningless, promiscuous sex, but I don’t think women only exist to give birth and swiffer either.

 

I think that what works for every woman is different, and while it presents its own set of challenges, I’m grateful to live in a time where women can choose for themselves what lives they want to lead.

 

But to too many women, the word “choice” has become synonymous with abortion.

 

And to these women, their entire lives hinge on this “choice.”

 

Their hopes and dreams and ambitions all depend on whether or not they’re legally allowed to kill their children in the womb.

 

And I don’t think that idea came to so many women naturally.

 

I think the left has successfully dominated culture. From college classes to the shows we watch, we’re told that our happiness, our freedom and our success depend on access to abortion.

 

Because we’ve been told our happiness, freedom and success are completely intertwined with our careers.

 

And don’t get me wrong – like I said, I’m no traditionalist. I love my job, and I think women can and do find fulfillment in work.

 

Some trad girls might be happy living in a 600 square foot cabin in the middle of nowhere sleeping on mats on the floor – but I’ll tell you right now, that ain’t me and it never will be.

 

I’d be happy to make sacrifices for a family one day, but I’m thinking more along the lines of “no eating out this month” – not only eating meat every other Tuesday or peeing in a bucket to save on utilities. 

 

I’ve always had a comfortable life, and I’d like to keep it that way. I understand that money is what makes that possible, and am grateful to be able to maintain a certain standard of living for myself on my own.

 

That being said, money only takes you so far.

 

I remember reading a study about how money does increase happiness up to a point, but after reaching a certain threshold (I think it was around $100K) it plateaus for most people. 

 

I’ve had incredible experiences through my job, and I want to grow in my career. But I wouldn’t care if I ever got another raise in my life if it meant finding love and starting a family.

 

It might sound pathetic to some people, but I know that a lot of women – including my liberal acquaintances in D.C. and Boston – feel the same way on some level whether or not they’ll ever admit it.

 

There are exceptions to every rule, but deep down most women want to be a wife and a mother more than they’ll ever want to be a millionaire.

 

You get enough wine in the biggest “goal digger” girl boss you’ve ever met, and she sounds like a 15 year old from Alabama talking about how badly she wants to find “the one” and the names she has picked out for her kids.

 

I’m not saying career doesn’t matter, or that all women want the same things. I’m saying that the most fulfillment the vast majority of people find is in relationships, and in family – particularly in starting families of their own.

 

And I’m saying that women have been taught to prioritize a dream that might not have been theirs to begin with.

 

I’m saying that we’ve been taught to think of the very thing that makes most of us the happiest as an obstacle to our happiness.

 

I empathize and sympathize with women that have had abortions.

 

The decision to bring life into the world isn’t necessarily an easy one under the most ideal circumstances – nevermind if you’re completely unprepared for it.

 

When my mother found out she was pregnant with me, she had just started law school at Brown.

 

I can’t imagine what was going through her head. I wonder if she saw the life she’d envisioned for herself come crashing down. I wonder if she immediately began stressing out about money. I wonder if she thought she’d be able to work things out with my biological father, or if she knew things would turn out the way they did.

 

But one marriage and two kids later retired at 52, I genuinely don’t know if she’d change anything if given the chance.

 

One day I asked her what she thought her life would’ve been like if she never got pregnant with me, and she finished law school. She said “I’d have more money but I’d be lonely.”

 

And as I look around at these women, around my age, with their degrees and doctorates and businesses and hefty salaries, embracing this collective rage and shouting “my body, my choice” from the rooftops, I wonder if and when they’ll realize that while an inconvenient pregnancy may seem like the end of the world, it can lead them to the lives they’ve always wanted.