I’m not “Pro-Choice” – I’m “Pro-Freedom”
Note: This is another one of my serious blogs. Feel free to read...or not.
I didn’t know her name.
She stood at my bus stop day after day and I didn’t know her name and I
didn’t WANT to know her name. You see,
my “bus time” is MY TIME. I do not,
repeat, DO NOT want a “Bus Buddy.” You
know the person, they see you on the bus and can’t wait to sit next to you and
tell you about their evening or their weekend or whatever. It’s not that I’m not friendly, nay, I’m VERY
friendly. Gregarious in fact. Willing to say hi to a stranger, chat a
person up in an elevator. But “bus
time” is MY TIME and I have my routine.
My seat. My meditation (ie: sleep)
and I don’t want to be taken out of that.
You could be the bestest person in the whole wide world but I need my
20-to-30 minutes of bus time.
Still, we said nothing.
She’d read and I’d wait. The bus
would come, we’d get on. She, obviously,
didn’t need or want a “bus buddy” either.
Unsaid rules were set and we got along just fine.
One day, though, it was obvious that I would have to speak
to her. Our bus was running
substantially late and there’s only so much staring at your feet that one can
do (and I was good at it) until the awkwardness of both of us looking up the street
to see no bus coming was finally going to reach its max.
So as she cradled whatever book she was reading, I leaned in
and said: “Good book?” She looked at me and loudly said: “Well....not the book I should be
reading!” Okay...I’ll bite. “And what book is that?” “How to deal with breast cancer!” And there it was. A woman who I didn’t even know her name was
telling me that she had breast cancer.
SIGH. So now we had something to talk about and she soon became my “bus
stop buddy” meaning we’d chat at the bus stop but, when the bus arrived, we’d
go to our seats and not talk again until 7 a.m. the next morning. I never did find out her name.
But that’s the thing with me. I either have a face that says “trust me,
tell me you have issues” or I ask the right questions to people to have them
tell me their issues. Like: “Good book?”
What IS it with me? Why do people
open up to me?
Don’t get me wrong...this is not a complaint. Trust me, it’s not. I LOVE that people open up to me. As a writer and an observer of people, I like
to hear what people have to say about themselves and their lives. I’ve even got a handful of questions that are
great openers to get people to open up.
One of the best is when you meet a couple and ask them: “How did you meet?” There’s ALWAYS a story.
And then I do a crazy thing...I listen. I do what is referred to as “active
listening.” What this means is that you
actually LISTEN. You don’t steer the
story to yourself and your life. You
don’t give advice or ask inane questions about something that doesn’t make
sense – you listen to what they have to say and you find words in what they
said and repeat them back in the form of another question. So back to the “How did you meet?” Let’s say their response is: “Well, when I was stationed up at a Navy base
in Alaska – we used to go into town to a bar called The Barnacle and she was working there...” Maybe my next question would be: “How long were you in the Navy?” or
“Did you ever go back to Alaska?”
or “Was The Barnacle a
dive?” Typically most people would say
something like: “I’ve always wanted to
go to Alaska.” You see, that’s
wrong. First, it’s not a question and,
second, it’s about YOU, not THEM.
Once the second question is asked, this continues with more
active listening. Ideally in a 20 minute
conversation I speak for maybe 2 minutes, they speak for 18. You don’t learn about someone and their life
when it’s reversed. And you, certainly,
don’t make it about YOU – you make it about THEM.
I’ve had these skills for as long as I can remember and I
think it’s a combination of these skills that enables people to want to
interact with me. It’s like I have a
special “good listening” sense or something.
And I have been doing this for years and you’d be amazed at what people
are willing to tell you about their hopes, dreams, fears, fantasies, sex life,
secrets, etc. Obviously there needs to
be a level of trust, too.
Barbara was one of those friends. I had, actually, sworn off any more
friends. Literally, I had said to myself
that I was done with being the therapist for everyone I knew. Though I enjoyed it, it does sap one’s energy
to active listen and, damn it, sometimes I need some ME time. But, as these things go, I couldn’t walk
away.
Barbara worked for a company that my company worked
with. We would call them and order up
boxes. Each call would take a few
minutes because they’d have to look up the number, see if we had the box
already, double check, ask a few questions of when the box is needed, etc. This leaves “gaps” in the conversation and
I’m not one to not fill a gap with inane jabber. So a typical call would go like this:
“This is Barbara – how can I help you?”
“Hey Barbara, this is Matt Terry. How’s it goin’?”
“Good. What can I get
for you?”
“Can you send over box 1234 and 1235 on a RUSH basis,
please?”
“Hold on, let me check...”
This would then be the pause as she’d punch numbers in the
computer and it would do whatever. In
these pauses, I would then say things like:
“Got any plans for the weekend?” or
“Are you and the hubby doing anything?”
or “Seen any movies lately?”
Of course with my “active listening” brain the answer to
these questions would then spring MORE questions and I would ask those.
Over the time of about 6 months, and though I had sworn off
friends, Barbara and I became good friends.
Now, I had never met her in person.
Didn’t really know what she looked like.
But we chatted and laughed and talked about all sorts of things...and
here’s what I learned:
She was in a terrible marriage.
Her husband had stolen all their money and invested it in
Amway and lost it all.
She was not happy with him, or her job.
They had not had “relations” for over 2 years.
She was suffering from depression.
She needed to get out.
Now, there’s a common rule that I follow and that is to not
give advice unless asked. Listening is
always the best practice. Giving advice
isn’t necessarily the best practice but often times they would ask and if they
did I would give it. My suggestions were
to see a REAL therapist, talk to her family, and get out of this marriage as
quickly as possible.
She followed through and kicked the thieving bastard to the
curb where he belonged. She was now a
single woman on the make who had not been intimate with a man in over 2.5 years
now and was ready to enter the dating pool again. Good for her.
One morning, as she was rushing out of her house, she locked
her keys in her car and had to call a lock-smith to help her. When the knight-in-shining armor came out she
felt smitten by this handsome guy helping her out and she tossed out the idea
for them to go out on a date. He took
her up on the offer and they soon went out.
With years of pent-up libido and a new-found freedom in
grasp, she slept with him. She was on
the pill so she knew she wouldn’t get pregnant and it was only the one
time...alas...she got pregnant.
When she told him, he denied everything, accused her of
trying to get at his “family fortune” – if one even existed and treated her
like a pariah. He would have nothing to
do with her or his baby. She was
stuck. Finally after years of pain and
suffering at thieving husband – she finally experiences another night with a
man and gets pregnant. With her whole
life ahead of her – this guy wanted nothing to do with her or the baby and she
couldn’t afford to raise the child by herself.
She chose to have an abortion.
We talked at length about her choices. I did what I did best. I listened.
This wasn’t an easy choice by her.
This wasn’t “abortion as birth control” and she knew that it would
devastate her in a number of ways both physically and mentally. Her family wasn’t going to be there for her –
and, obviously, neither was the “father.”
Once she had made her decision, she had no one else to take her to the
clinic, so I volunteered.
The procedure didn’t take long. Fifteen minutes, tops. Afterwards we rode silently, to a local Denny’s where we
chatted a bit. It’s been so long and the
conversation so meaningless that I don’t remember what we said. I probably said some platitudes but we might
as well have talked about the weather or colored pinwheels. I do know that I offered to take her home but
she said she was “okay” and we went our separate ways.
Over the next few months she took more control of her
life. Quit her job, found a new job,
commuted many miles, dated, fell in love, fell out of love, found another love –
dated some more. And then we lost touch
and I haven’t heard from her in years.
Don’t know if she’s living or dead...wish I knew.
*****
One of the biggest issues I have when it comes to abortion
or gay rights is that many of the people who are making/voting/creating the
decisions don’t know anyone who has had an abortion or don’t know anyone who is
gay...so they get their “facts” from whatever they’re told or whatever they
believe through some archaic concept that doesn’t hold up to the reality of the
loving gay couple next door – or the struggling twenty-something still dealing
with the guilt of an abortion.
This blog, in my own little way, is to put a face on the reality
that is abortion. I’m not trying to say
it’s right or it’s wrong but my goal is to clear away what I think is a common
misconception about abortion and that it’s equivalent to going down to
Starbucks and buying a double latte. I
will be very clear, I’m not for abortion as a form of birth control – but that
is often the image that is given by abortion foes. Like it’s a walk in the park. Trust me...it's not.
In 2011 Florida made a rule that all persons on welfare
should be drug tested. The thought was
that if you’re being given money by the government, the government shouldn’t
pay for your drug habit. On paper, or as
a Facebook meme, this sounds completely and totally logical. You don’t want druggies on the government’s
dime. An idea that people can soundly
get behind because, in a lot of ways, it makes sense.
Here’s what happened.
The state of Florida spent MILLIONS of dollars to find out that 2% of
welfare recipients were using drugs.
Millions of dollars to save a couple hundred thousand dollars. Dollars that could have been spent on drug
education. Schools. Job incentive programs. Anything else. But the residents of Florida were so bent on
culling those drug addicts from the state rolls that they spent a huge amount
of money to find out only 2% were guilty.
Then the question begs: Who was
the drug company? Oh, yeah, the drug
company had a relationship with the Governor’s wife – or something like
that. So this drive to find waste –
wasted millions while politicians got rich.
So was this really about saving a dime or....what?
Again, when people hear about women having abortions, or gay
people wanting to get married, often times the perception the people who are
against this have some one-dimensional mind set. ARE there people who use abortion as a form
of birth control? I’m sure there
are. But I bet it’s less than 2%. Are there sketchy gay people out there? I’m sure there are. But I bet it’s less than 2% (and there are
far more sketchy straight people out there than 2%).
Like turning up the radio in your car to drown out that
annoying noise that the engine is going to fall out – I see people who hold
stories like this at arm’s length. They
don’t want to hear the heartbreaking story of the young girl raped. They don’t want to hear the story of the
recently divorced woman sowing her oats and being lied to. They don’t want to move beyond their
1-dimensional view point to see the layers of gray that might exist.
Lastly...if abortion is so important to some people...I
simply ask this: The woman has the
baby. Then what?
What about the father of said child? Where are the laws punishing him? If this woman is forced to carry the baby to
term then what of the father? Chemical
castration? Forced payments to the
mother and child? The fact that the
father is never brought into the equation is shocking to me. It’s as if the woman got pregnant all on her
own.
What about the health of the child? If this child is to be born and be born
healthy, what is being done by this government to provide for that child? Pre-natal vitamins, pre-natal health
screenings, doctor’s appointments, birthing process, post-natal care, doctor
visits for the child and the mother, etc.
I see a strong (very strong) disconnect between when the child is in the
womb and once the child is out.
Now the child is going to school. What is this government’s role in terms of
education? Both primary and secondary? If the government wants to take such a strong
role while the child is “in the womb” what about when the child is “out of the
womb?” What is being done?
If the child is going to be put up for adoption, what has the
government done to streamline this process?
How much easier is it for potential parents to be screened? How are the costs being kept low? What rules are in place so the transition is
a speedy one?
It is, in my opinion, extremely disingenuous, to force a
woman to have a child possibly against her will and then turn your back on her
the moment the child is born. Show me
how the above is in place. Show me how
the above is being dealt with. Show me
the legislature to bring to justice and throw in jail these lock-smiths who
think they can just get a woman pregnant and walk away. Oh, that’s right; they can get a woman
pregnant and walk away.
As the political discourse was ramping up recently, I would post
photos on Facebook with the simple caption of “Yep.” I soon, though, decided to change it to “Something
to think about.” Why? Well, it’s easy for someone who disagrees
with me to bypass a photograph with the word “Yep” but to bypass something that
is asking them to “think” makes me think that they might not want to deny not
thinking. In other words – I don’t think
there’s anyone out there who would look at a photo I would post and say: “I don’t want to think about it.” That would be sort of snobby...
When I hear factions talk about “pro life” and “pro choice” –
I’ve often see the words “pro choice” as kind of the loser in that
phrasing. “Pro life” sounds so
affirmative while “pro choice” sounds like you’re all for deciding between Coke
and Pepsi. I hereby say that I’m not “pro
choice” – I’m “pro freedom.” Freedom of
choice. Freedom for a woman to choose
what SHE wants to do based on her age, health, job, life, children, husband,
doctor, faith. Freedom for people to
love and marry who they want. If the “pro
life” people want to say that they’re “anti freedom” then they certainly have
the right to do so.