Wounded

I woke up this morning after having dreamed of an old friend I had to drop because she started picking off the men in my life to have sex with. If I was close to them, she'd get closer. I didn't know it at the time, but her promiscuity was a salve she was applying to a very big wound.

Someone had told her that her greatest attribute was her sexuality. She tested that theory and became pregnant. Her parents, overgrown hippies, helped her to an abortion, then a few more, all the while supporting their daughter's "choices." She was buying urine to submit for her drug tests the I last heard from her.

She's resurfaced in my life to a certain degree, with a child. I'd like to say she's had a wonderful change and is now a rock solid personality with the drugs and alcohol a thing of the past, but I honestly don't know. I've not initiated contact for various reasons. If my life was open for a transformation, surely hers was, too. I content myself to pray for her when she comes across my radar and I pray for her beautiful child.

Abortion didn't help my friend. It made her miseries harder to bear. After that first one, she wrote a few poems, took a stuffed animal to help another friend grieve through her abortion, she talked. After the second one, that girl disappeared--the one who could express her emotions and use them to connect with others in any way I understood. In her place was a young woman who would do just about anything to go numb.

We had a lot in common. We both spun out of control in our own way. There was one major difference between us. Growing up, politically I was Pro-Choice and she was not. I was the Pro-Choicer who would never have had an abortion. She didn't like abortion but had several. Was that the defining difference? I can't say. What I can say is that she is part of the reason I became Pro-Life later. Some of the conversations we had jarred me in my Pro-Choice rhetoric just enough to nag at me for 20 or so years until I took a second look.

Our friendship didn't last, but her influence did. She showed me the pain abortion can cause a woman and the havoc the aftermath can wreak in an already complicated life. Hers is one of the many faces I place in the forefront of my mind when I write or speak about abortion, so that I am careful with such painful truths.

In the build-up to the 40 Days for Life, keep my friend in mind when you march, speak, and write. Pray for her. Think about her. Most of all, be careful with her. She may be listening.