When you’re struggling after abortion, healing can feel impossible—but transformation is possible. Follow one woman’s journey from isolation to support and see how sharing your story in the right space can break through silence and lead to healing. With practical advice and honest insight, this blog shows how seeking help after abortion can spark growth and healing.

 

Right after my abortion, I decided this would be something I would handle by myself. I didn’t have anyone I could trust. The guy I had been dating disappeared on me. I knew my family would lose their minds, judge me, and make it all about them. I knew my friends would just tell me I did the right thing and not understand how I felt. It’s like there was nowhere I could go, and it’s still like that. Nothing has changed, except more and more I feel like I need to talk about it, but I still don’t have anyone I can trust.

Choosing to go it alone is a temptingly “easy” fix. It’s certainly simple, and it does avoid painful conversations that may go down exactly as you think they will. When you’re already experiencing something difficult, there can be a strong desire to not take on any more challenges. The problem with this plan to avoid more pain is that it also largely avoids opportunities to heal. 

That’s not to say that you can’t make progress on your own. Reading, journaling, meditation, self-guided options, and self-care can help bring you healing after your abortion experiences. Yet, for many people, their untold stories ping back and forth in the echo chamber of their minds, and often become worse the longer they bounce around.  

Research has shown that the harder you try to not think about something, the more often that thought will bubble up. Additional research suggests that repressing those thoughts can lead to “several emotional disorders” and even physical illness. 

On the flip side, once you find someone to confide in, huge benefits await, starting with a lessening of feelings of shame.  Just as importantly, you can change your unhelpful beliefs about your abortion experiences. As you become more able to tell your story, triggers become less prominent, and some may resolve completely. Telling your story can help organize your experiences in your own mind, making them easier for you to handle. Clearly, these outcomes could be potentially life-changing for you. Step one becomes, How do I find the right place to tell my story?

I decided I would go for counseling. All the therapists in my area had a long wait list, so I couldn’t get right in. I had never been to a therapist before and looking back, I think my ideas were shaped by movies, because the person I wound up with was a huge disappointment. I didn’t feel like she cared about me at all, and I didn’t feel comfortable telling her much of anything. I was angry because it had taken a lot of courage for me to go, I’d waited a long time, and I’d become so hopeful this person would help me. A few days after that session, I saw a flyer for a drop-in abortion support group. It was at a community center near my apartment, and the next meeting was that night. I decided to go, mostly because I wanted to vent about how terrible this therapist had been. That’s exactly what I did, but as I was complaining about the therapist, I wound up saying so much more, and the women there understood! I honestly feel like that night was the start of a whole new life for me.

One of the reasons why people sometimes believe that it’s hard to get help is because it can actually be hard to get help. Not everyone who is in the business of helping people is good at helping people—or helping in specific situations. Even more common are simple personality or style mismatches. If someone lives in a remote or underserved community, geography can also make finding care difficult. (Although online resources can be hugely beneficial in such situations.) 

These concerns are often built on long-held beliefs from family or culture that stigmatize—or create a negative view of—receiving help, making it feel shameful or wrong to ask for support when you need it. This can all feel like a lot—even too much. The more obstacles you face, the more courage it takes to find the right place to tell your story, process its impact, and figure out how to move forward toward a better life. 

It may feel like courage is the sort of thing people either have or don’t have. It may also feel as if your fears are too great to overcome. But the truth is, courage is like a muscle. It can be exercised and become stronger over time. Psychology Today offers ten useful observations on how to grow your courage over time that you might find helpful.

It didn’t take long for me to feel like I was a part of the group, and once I’d gone to a few meetings, it’s like my eyes opened, my ears opened, I was learning so many things! I even found myself sort of beating myself up that I hadn’t done something sooner. In addition to that main meeting, I also read some great books and worked my way through the Keys to Hope and Healing abortion healing resource. A few weeks into it, I had this moment of clarity. I looked back at the earlier me who was too scared to reach out, and I realized, no wonder it took me so long. I had a lot of things working against me. Instead of beating myself up, I wanted to go back in time and give that earlier version of myself a hug. I overcame a lot to give myself a chance. Treating “earlier me” with compassion has become an important part of my healing.  

If you feel that you would benefit from talking with someone about your abortion experience(s), but have hesitated to do so, it may be beneficial to do a self-assessment to figure out just what’s holding you back.

  • Does your story feel complicated even to you? There’s often an expectation that our story should fit into an either/or sort of category. It’s either one thing or another. But often, real life is messier than that, and our reality can be better described as “yes, and…” For example, grief and relief can co-exist. It may feel daunting to try to describe our complicated experiences, and so we choose to not share it at all. Or we only share bits, perhaps keeping silent about the parts that hurt the most.
  • Do you believe that your friends and family would judge you and your story? Regardless of what their stance on abortion might be, it can be overwhelming to face sharing your story and someone else’s agenda, especially when that agenda conflicts with your own experience(s).
  • Do you have any friends or family members who feel like a safe place to tell your story? If you don’t, and you either have no experience with sharing your story or only negative experiences, you might find it hard to believe that there is anyone out there who will listen without judgment and be able to offer helpful advice.
  • Do you feel that the social stigma around abortion impacts you deeply? The larger cultural conversation can be overwhelming, and your fear of judgment might extend beyond family and friends to society as a whole. This pressure can make keeping your experience secret feel like a tempting solution.
  • Have you judged yourself and convinced yourself that you’re not worthy of a better future? When you’re dealing with deep pain from your abortion experience(s), it can be hard to imagine a happier future without feeling guilty.
  • Do you have a list of reasons why you shouldn’t reach out for help? Maybe you think, It’s been too long since my abortion(s) or My abortion was too recent. Or perhaps you have supportive loved ones, so you feel like you shouldn’t need additional help. On the other hand, maybe people in your life have been unsupportive, making you feel like you don’t deserve to get healthier. Starting your healing journey can be tough, and your mind might put up roadblocks. If you catch yourself thinking I should, it’s worth taking a moment to explore what’s behind that thought.
  • Is it difficult for you to reach resources due to your location, transportation issues, or lack of access to wi-fi? Sometimes when we need assistance the most is when it is the hardest for us to reach it. 15 million Americans face transportation challenges every day, and it is a difficult problem to solve. 

No matter what is holding you back from healing, the same truth applies—you are worth the effort to overcome these obstacles. You are worthy of love, of peace, of happiness. You are worthy of good things. Far too often, it can seem that the world doesn’t agree with this sentiment. It can be so hard to prioritize your own healing and to believe you deserve the time, effort, and energy required to heal. 

Let’s try a quick thought experiment. Picture yourself at age five. Do you remember a time when something happened that made you feel strong emotions—maybe you were hurt, scared, or upset? Now imagine having a conversation with that younger version of yourself. If five-year-old-you told you they were feeling the same kind of hurt you feel now—anger, sadness, betrayal, guilt, loneliness—you’d probably have no doubt that they needed help. You’d do whatever it took to get them the support they needed.

No matter what’s happened in your life, your worth hasn’t changed. You’re just as valuable, just as deserving of healing, as you were when you were five.

As I continued down my healing journey, it felt like so many doors opened for me. This happened in some good, happy ways. For example, I decided I needed to add exercise to my life, so I took up running, and to my surprise, I was actually good at it! I’m about to do my first half-marathon, which is exciting. But other doors that have opened have been very difficult. I’ve had to confront the fact that some of the family members who raised me were really pretty abusive. It’s hard to admit that, and I’m still figuring out how to process this, so I’ve decided to find a therapist. It’s funny, at the start of my journey, I went to a therapist and swore I’d never go back. But now I believe that with the right research I can find someone who will help me better understand my past and what I need to do for my future. I would never have gotten to this place if I hadn’t started my abortion healing journey.

Change is hard, even when we want it. Creating lasting, positive change is particularly challenging. Researchers have spent a lot of time looking into why this is so and have come up with a very fancy title for a pretty common-sense process. It’s called the Transtheoretical Model of Change. It boils down to five simple steps:

  1. Pre-contemplation – You aren’t aware of an issue, so you aren’t thinking about changing.
  2. Contemplation – You’re aware of an issue, but haven’t decided to change.
  3. Preparation – You’ve decided to change and are taking steps to do something.
  4. Action – You start working consistently on changing the behavior.
  5. Maintenance – You’re doing what it takes to keep the new behavior going. 

Note that there are three (3!) phases that come before action, and all of them are necessary. If you slip, don’t let it worry you or keep you from moving forward. Change is hard and it’s common to slip. Just jump back in to get back on track. 

When you’ve been headed in a certain direction for a long time, it can take some real effort to change course. Your mind isn’t like a jet ski, changing directions quickly. Your mind is like a cruise ship. It takes time and a lot of little shifts for a cruise ship to make a 180 degree turn, just as it does for us to change course. 

The exciting thing is that once we change course, we can see a ripple effect that impacts our entire life. A British-Venezuelan researcher named Carlota Perez dubbed this the “Change Begets Change” effect. Her work focused on innovation, but it is a concept that is equally applicable to our own personal lives. Once we successfully move into action and then maintenance, we can discover several other doors to change will open. 

As I worked through my childhood trauma with my therapist, I came to realize something I always thought of as a strength also worked against me. I’ve always considered myself tough. I dealt with a lot of hard things, but I’d just keep plugging away, moving forward. I’d tell myself I could handle anything. In a way, I did, but I also wound up taking on a lot of damage because of the way I’d just keep going. I don’t want to live in the past, but here in the present, I now have a goal of being mindful of my boundaries. I tell myself it isn’t a weakness to say “no.” It’s just the opposite. It’s a sign of real strength.

If you grew up in an environment where your needs weren’t always valued, you might struggle with boundaries—the ability to say no, stand up for yourself, and protect your well-being. The tricky part? Poor boundaries don’t always feel like a problem. Maybe you’ve been praised for being loyal, always helping others, or solving problems. Maybe being the one people count on makes you feel needed and important.

That kind of approval can feel really good in the moment, but over time, the pressure to keep everyone happy can leave you drained. You might put others first so often that you forget to take care of yourself. And when you’re used to doing that, asking for help—putting your needs first—can feel uncomfortable, or even wrong.

Not sure if boundaries are something you struggle with? This quiz from Psychology Today is a quick, easy starting point to better understand yourself and boundaries.  

It dawned on me that somewhere along the way I’ve become a trusted voice in our abortion healing community—even someone others look to for help. When I remember where I was before I made my first appointment with that therapist, I’m so glad I’ve been able to grow so much. I’m so glad I didn’t quit when that first appointment didn’t go well, and I’m so glad I didn’t quit when things got hard. Absolutely, this journey has been hard, and it hasn’t been perfect. It’s not like once I started, things just got better and better every day. Some days, weeks, months—whole seasons—were harder than others, sometimes it’s hard to see progress. Which is why it can be good to pause and take stock. When I did that recently, and acknowledged how far I’ve come, I made the decision to become an abortion healing facilitator. I am excited to give back, and I’m eager to be able to support others starting their path to healing. 

When you have not yet taken the first step on a journey that you know will be a difficult one, it can feel overwhelming. It might even feel impossible. But, don’t let these feelings stop you from trying.

It can be helpful to identify your “why” in such moments. Ask yourself: 

  • What is it I hope to achieve? 
  • What do I want my life to look like on the other side of the hardest part of my healing? 
  • Who do I want to become? 

Getting clarity on these questions and developing a vision of your future can keep you going through the challenges you’ll inevitably face. Most importantly, remember this: You matter. You are worth the effort—both who you are today and who you are becoming.

 © Support After Abortion