Why do I escort at an abortion clinic?


It’s simple, yet complicated. The simple answer is that I am Pro-Choice and that should be enough. Unfortunately, simple is never simple enough.

It gets complicated when other factors come into play. I hate bullies, whether in individual form
or in groups. A bully doesn’t have an opinion. Rather, a bully has a mission and that mission is
to needlessly humiliate, seek to outsmart, persist, embarrass, shame or, in some cases, harm
their victims. At a clinic, the bullies are the “antis” who feel they have “God” on their side, which somehow gives them carte blanche permission to resort to any and all measures they can think of in their selfish, narrow minds to achieve their “goals”. Unfortunately, their goals are the result of flawed thinking. They also lack compassion and the ability to put themselves in someone else’s shoes. You know, just like Jesus did.

I have never seen anyone standing at the milk display at a grocery store screaming at or
shaming folks who they perceive to be “wrong” in buying whole milk verses one percent, or even skim milk. Here’s the deal: It’s really nobody’s fucking business! Think what you want to think, but keep your opinions to yourself about my cereal and coffee accompaniment choice!

As a kid, I witnessed dozens of episodes of men trying to persuade, tell, even demand under
threat of being fired how my mom should dress, conduct herself, raise her kids, treat all men as
superior beings – the list goes on and many of those ideals continue today.

My mom did a great job raising two kids by herself in the 1960s as a young divorced woman,
with practically zero financial or empathetic support from our family. What did she do to wreck
her marriage? She refused to remain in a relationship with an alcoholic husband who had zero
ambition. Yes, it was definitely all her fault and it was something she should be shamed, bullied
and rightly punished for by society. My mom always kept her head up, navigated the rough
waters through calm, positive thinking and persistent action. And you know what? She won! A
woman has a voice and a woman has a choice. All of that has stayed with me and made me
who I am today.

So, the above complications aside, for me the choice is simple.