Hear me well.

Once upon a time, there was this little girl. She was no princess, but she wa'ant a peasant, either. She had been raised on the notion that great things awaited her, and she believed it to be so, picturing these great things to be leaded by an enchanting young man who would notice how great this little girl was and would always love her, and so she and she waited, and waited, and waited. Thus waiting, the little girl became a little woman. Her parents and the teachings she had received still emphasized something great would happen, never specifying what exactly that something would be. The little woman worried.

She worried something might be wrong. No charming young man had come knocking at her door. She looked for him everywhere, and she fancied she saw him in every man, but to no avail. He was not there. So she gave up the idea that great things awaited her altogether and started living the life she thought she deserved. Many people, many men, trampled upon her, toying with her feelings and with her sex, and although she did feel disappointed, she knew of nothing else. She kept her hope somehow, nevertheless.

And one day, a man came riding down the great road of life. He noticed the little woman, saw how pretty she was, and decided he liked her. She was not particularly impressed by him, but his words were sweet and his demeanor ellegant, so she started to like him. Some time passed, not too long, and she started to love him. He talked about great things for the two of them; he portraited everything she had lusted for her whole life.

And thus one day when her period was due, it didn't come. Neither did the next day. Nor the next. They had been careful, but seemingly, not careful enough.

He was such a gentleman. He made the pertinent inquiries, made an appointment with a doctor, an abortion was performed uneventfully. The problem had been seen to; the quest was over. So he mounted his horse again and went without casting a glance back.

Then the little woman became a bitch from hell.

The end.

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I have never regretted the abortion; I want to make myself clear. If I have to be honest, I should be thankful to this excellent gentleman, because he took care of things when I couldn't possible have. He led me to it, but it was the decision I would have also made myself had I been alone. It was a good decision for me, and as I said, I have never regretted it, but by this I'm not saying it was an easy decision, or an easy choice, or an easy experience.

I have read so many women talk about how great it is to have an abortion, and I assume they mean it's great to be able to have an abortion, because I can't possible make out what can be great about it. It is no day in the park. I think it is one of the biggest agressions you can commit not only against your own body, but against your soul (and I don't mean this in a shitass Christian way. Before this, when I was 13 or 14, I used to be totally anti-abortion; I didn't condemn those people who had one but in my innocent view I always thought that if you were careless enough to catch pregnant then you should be responsable enough to bring the child to term, if only to give it in adoption. Back then, I thought of the child, not about the woman. And now it's quite the opposite; when I say abortion is an agression against your soul, I mean it as a woman.

I don't know how to express it. To begin with, I'll tell you this much: being pregnant sucks if you don't want the child. I guess when I want one and I get pregnant I'll enjoy it immensely but right then it sucked. My back ached terrible, I was puking my guts out and I fell asleep at any time. Plus, I'd get the yuckies. My breasts hurt. I had cramps. I was horribly bloated. Then the abortion itself was painless enough; I had one of those little pills since I wasn't too far gone. But the bleeding! I just couldn't believe that much blood could come out of myself without me dying. It is a very strong shock to see what your body is going through and knowing the reasons why it does, and then you start pondering if you made the right choices.

Just clarifying again: I never actually regretted it in the sense I wished I had had the baby, but I must confess I lost my will to live for a very long time. But that's just me. I was fool enough to believe in destiny and so I couldn't make any sense of what was happening to me. The guy had come, the guy had left and nothing in my life had improved; quite the opposite, it had worsened.

I'm OK now about it. I still can't make sense out of it, but I still believe in fate. My getting pregnant is the only great question mark in my life: Why did it have to happen? What good could possibly have come out of it? Why did I have to go through such a hard time, both mentally and physically? And so on and so forth. I've given it up for now; it's for bigger heads that mine, I guess.

I guess I wrote this because I want to express my viewpoint on abortion: it is an excellent thing to have it as an option (maybe I should clarify: in my country, abortion is illegal but however it's not difficult to get one), and everyone should consider it as an option, but it shouldn't be taken lightly. If anyone out there is reading this, and you're a woman pondering on having an abortion, hypothetically or not, get this: it is not a light matter. It is not easy to overcome. It shouldn't be; it is your body we're talking about, after all.