During my high school years, my mother grew increasingly controlling. I am Latina, which means, if you know what its like, Latina mothers are very ... "strong". On top of that, she tended to be both emotionally and physically abusive until she suddenly did not care at all. I thought this was a good thing ... I thought I could handle myself.
In my eleventh grade year, I met a boy. I never wanted to date him,
needless to say, I didn't want to be exclusive with him. He made me feel
really guilty. Gradually it became another controlling issue. If I
went out with anyone, friend or family, he would yell at me and start
doing things to scare me, such as drive on the wrong side of the road with
me in the car with him or abuse himself. I hated myself and I hated
him, but I was afraid to say anything--I was afraid of what he would be
capable of. When his abuse started getting worse, I slept with him
hoping he would be nice to me; I hoped maybe it was a way to be a little
more free.
After a only a couple months, I found I was pregnant. It was ironic,
because that very week, he asked me what would happen if I ever got
pregnant; my answer: I would have it and we would stay together.
After taking the three pregnancy tests, I called my cousin to help me
out; I didn't know what to do--I was in shock. All of a sudden, I saw
my education and future shatter--I COULDN'T take care of a child and
attend college successfully. I didn't have that kind of strength. My
mother, being the aggressive woman she is, would not help me and would
blame my life on only myself.
I feel horrible saying this but: I WOULD SEE THE CHILD AS SOMETHING I
WOULD HATE, SOMETHING THAT RUINED MY LIFE AND FUTURE BECAUSE OF THAT
BOY.
When speaking to my family on putting it up for adoption, my mother
said she would disown me if I did that. She said she would find every way
possible to adopt that child. I feared her. I also feared myself. I
knew that if I were to carry the child to term, giving up a child would
be painfully difficult; then, I would hate myself for keeping the
child.
When I finally had the abortion, I felt relieved, but at the same time,
ashamed because I was taught to think an abortion was bad. My family
said it, my friends said it, even the strangers at many centers said it.
I hated myself--I thought I had to feel guilty for what I did: I FELT
LIKE I FINALLY HAD CONTROL OF MY OWN LIFE, not my mother, not that boy
that abused me, no one ...I made the decision myself.
I thought long and hard about what I felt was best for me--not what
others think--BUT WHAT I THINK. I am PROUD of my decision. I am now a
junior in college and am currently moving to New York City. I have been
living and working on my own and experiencing things that I would have
been unable to had I kept the child. I have done well, and now I am no
longer ashamed.
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