What Feels Most Vulnerable About Sharing Your Abortion Experience?
There’s a part of the abortion experience that doesn’t get talked about nearly enough—what it feels like to carry the weight of silence.
For many women, it’s not the procedure itself that leaves the deepest mark. It’s the aftermath. The quiet. The shame. The fear that if they speak up—if they share the truth of what they’ve been through—they’ll be met with judgment, rejection, or worse… abandonment.
You might find yourself wondering:
Will they still love me if they know?
Will they think differently of me?
Will I lose the people I care about the most?
These questions aren’t just in your mind—they live in your body. They live in the tightness in your chest when someone brings up abortion casually in conversation. They live in the lump in your throat when someone asks, “Do you have kids?” They live in the ache of knowing that your experience is real and valid, but still feeling like there’s no safe place to speak it aloud.
Sharing this part of yourself can feel dangerous. Raw. Exposed. Because our culture often makes it that way. Abortion is politicized. Debated. Weaponized. Rarely is it held with the tenderness and nuance it deserves.
And yet, here’s the truth:
You are not unlovable because of your abortion.
You are not bad.
You are not broken.
If you’ve been afraid to speak your story, you are not alone. So many women carry this same fear—What will happen if I’m honest about what I’ve been through?
This journal prompt isn’t about forcing yourself to tell your story before you're ready. It’s about getting curious, with gentleness and compassion, about why this part of you feels so hard to reveal. It’s about tracing the roots of those fears—judgment, abandonment, being seen as unworthy—and beginning to loosen their grip.
Healing doesn’t mean putting it all on display.
Healing means holding your truth with softness.
It means you giving yourself permission to feel, to honor, to be witnessed—even if just by you.
So today, I invite you to sit with this question in your journal, in your heart, or in a quiet moment alone:
What feels most vulnerable about sharing this part of my story? And what does that part of me need in order to feel safe, held, and seen?
You deserve a space where your story can be honored. Even if that space begins within you.