Trigger warning: This article mentions abortion.
I grew up in a strict, religious family. My mother attended church every day and was heavily involved in church activities. For me, religion was not a choice—it was the food for my soul. I was practically dragged to church services no matter the time of day, and my mother didn’t understand the concept of school nights as long as I was in church.
Life was black and white, right and wrong. I wasn’t exposed to any other way of thinking. I looked down on my classmates who engaged in anything I had been taught was ungodly and was very judgmental of others.
But I didn’t feel out of place because everyone around me was the same. We were all being raised on the same foundation: glorifying purity culture, relying heavily on abstinence, and shaming those who lived differently.
One moment that stands out to me is when I was 15 and heard that a student at my school had had an abortion, and the fetus had been found by school authorities. We never found out who it was, but rumours began swirling, and fingers were pointed at a particular girl. Looking back now, I hardly recognise who I was then—I was everything I am not today. I whispered nasty things, unable to comprehend how someone could be so reckless. To me, it was the worst sin a person could commit. An abominable act. She eventually dropped out of school, and my heart goes out to her now. If it was really her, making that decision at such a young age and facing such ridicule must have been incredibly lonely and damaging to her mental health.
The Turning Point
One of my mother’s most terrifying warnings was, “I’ll throw you out of the house if you come home pregnant." I couldn’t imagine ever being in that situation, but I also knew that the worst thing I could do was have an abortion.
In 2016, one of my closest friends discovered she was pregnant. Coming from a difficult home, she didn’t want to disappoint her parents with a teenage pregnancy, so she decided to terminate it. Knowing who I was, she didn’t tell me until after the abortion was done. I remember getting a call from her saying she was in pain. She later showed me pictures of the tissues she had passed. I was disappointed in myself. By then, I had come to realise that I’m an empath, and it frustrated me that I hadn’t been able to support her or be there for her.
Though I still judged her decision and believed it would never happen to me, I supported her because I knew that having a baby would have derailed her dreams of going to college.
That moment marked the beginning of me questioning everything I had believed in. Church no longer felt uplifting—it was a chore I performed to keep up appearances. Then came the questioning of purity culture, abstinence, and the purpose of the church itself, because the church rarely extends grace to those who need it most. Church members were often ostracised for making mistakes that anyone could make, and everything started to feel wrong to me. The more I questioned the church and the knowledge it imparted, the more my curiosity about reproductive health and rights grew.
I had grown up without ever having "the talk" about sex. If a kissing scene appeared in a movie while my mother was present, I would immediately look away. Anything related to sexuality felt wrong and embarrassing. I’m not proud of it, but most of what I learned about sex came from erotica. I went through a phase of reading every piece of erotica I could find, and eventually, I began writing it. I talked about it on social media, with friends, and basically with anyone who would listen.
Before I knew it, I had become the person people would come to for sex-related advice or questions about sexual health that didn’t seem serious enough for a doctor’s visit. Google became my second-best friend. If I didn’t know the answer, I’d jump online to find it just to help someone. The joy I felt from the positive feedback was immense. I started to consider a career in sex coaching because people found my advice so helpful.
My closest and most personal encounter with a person considering getting an abortion came when another close friend found herself with no other choice but to terminate an unwanted pregnancy. By this time, I had embraced my sexuality, but abortion had never really been a topic in my discussions with people, largely because of the stigma attached to it. I hadn’t had the chance to think much about it.
On this occasion, I was with her from start to finish. I made cold presses to ease her fever, made sure she had something to eat and drink, and reassured her that we were in this together. After her abortion process, I made a vow to myself: I would never again judge anyone seeking an abortion.
The Challenges of Changing Sides
Transitioning from anti-abortion to pro-choice was not as easy or swift as it might seem. There was an internal struggle that lasted a long time because I was so focused on what the people who knew me would think of my decision. I had been pro-choice for years before I started actively advocating for it. For those years, I had made a mental and emotional decision to support choice, but I was afraid to openly say, "I SUPPORT ABORTION."
I feared how the people from my church would perceive me. I no longer felt welcome, and I struggled with the belief that they were somehow better than me. In my head, I had crossed over to "the sinners", and I was okay with that. But I didn’t want them to know that I was no longer one of them.
Becoming a Pro-Choice Advocate
In early 2022, I came up with the idea to start a monthly pop-up event where like-minded people could gather to discuss topics centred around sexuality, sex, sexual health, and reproductive health. We invited guest speakers and hosted an open forum where people could share their views on the topic of the month. It was fun and empowering. As I became more confident in my pro-choice stance, I launched a social media page to post snippets from these events. After the first two, the events gained popularity, and I even received invitations to start a podcast focused on sexual and reproductive health. Still, Google remained my closest ally—everything I knew came from research.
In April 2022, I was aimlessly scrolling through LinkedIn when I saw an ad for a Communications Officer position at howtouseabortionpill.org. To be honest, I thought the role was beyond my experience, but my best friend encouraged me to apply anyway. In May 2022, I officially joined Women First Digital as a Communications Officer.
Later that year, I began publicly advocating for safe abortions on my personal TikTok page, which has since amassed over 12,000 followers. In my spare time, I use this platform to share my personal views on abortion. Now, I receive personal messages on various social media platforms from people seeking access to resources like Ally and the self-managed abortion video series. Even though I share these resources, my views on TikTok are not in any way affiliated with HTU.
The Impact of Advocacy on My Personal Life
If you asked me how advocacy has changed my life, I’d say it has been life-altering. If you asked me on a deeper level, I’d say it has been the best decision I’ve ever made. I always knew I was destined to help people, but for a long time, I struggled to figure out how. My role at Women First Digital and my personal advocacy work have been lifelines. I love waking up every day knowing that what I do helps so many people plan their lives and make informed decisions about their bodies. It’s heartbreaking to think of how hard we, as women, have to fight collectively for basic human rights. But I’m proud to be part of this fight.
If you are on your own journey transitioning from anti-abortion to pro-choice, my advice is to be gentle with yourself—it’s not a straight road. Keep in mind that you will need to continuously learn and check your biases. Be empathetic to the feelings and needs of others, listen, respect their decisions, and most importantly, remember that their abortion journey is not about you and your feelings. You are there to support. If you or someone you love needs support for an abortion with pills, howtouseabortionpill has comprehensive information for your process to be safe and less stressful. Ally, our safe abortion chatbot is also available 24/7 to chat with you in 6 different languages and give you questions to answers you may have about using the abortion pills. You’re not alone; you’re supported, and I hope you never forget that.
You can make a donation at: https://womenfirstdigital.org/donate/
This writer is based in Ghana, so recommendations made in this article are based on that jurisdiction.
If you are based in Australia and require confidential support, these services are available:
Lifeline on 13 11 14 for crisis support
Beyond Blue on 1300 22 4636 for support if you are experiencing anxiety and depression
Pregnancy, Birth and Baby on 1800 882 436 to speak to a maternal child health nurse