My body, their problem

On my way to school—after I ran over a runner’s foot, seriously!—I rode past posters of the Virgin Mary and anti-abortion protesters. These champions of life were staked out across for the Planned Parenthood of Northern New England because Tuesday is not only my least favorite day; it is the day surgical abortions are performed at PPNNE. I should have run over their feet.
First, the Virgin Mary: one of the reasons that women are damned is that the cornerstone of our Christian society is based on the “fact” that one of us gave birth to the Lamb of God without having sex. Ladies, you are responsible for holding up the morality of this great world, so keep your legs together.
Some of us will have little brats, but not Jesus No. 2. Still, there are many who believe procreating is all we should do. Some British twat argues that Bridget Jones has ruined British families. Essentially, Bridge has inspired a generation of women—chain-smoking women with bottoms the size of Brazil, presumably—to be independent. And surely, there is nothing more frightening that a woman who knows how to put one foot in front of another—without the aid of a man.
Whether you believe conception begins at life or it’s just a bunch of cells, abortion, after all, is about independence. To have the control over our reproductive rights is the independence every woman deserves.