Half asleep, I turned my phone to read the bold letters that dominated my screen. Paralyzed, my eyes locked on a single word: “overturned.” At that moment, all I could feel was hopelessness; the kind that washes over your body in an all-consuming wave. 

Maintaining my composure, I instinctively dial my mother. “Did you hear the news?” I probed, to which she replied, “Awesome, isn’t it?” Her words were the nail in the coffin of my self-restraint. I could no longer sit by in respectful silence—something I’m all too guilty of. 

With a conservative Christian mother, educated in the likes of a private institution, and a father, raised in a household void of religious influence—it was evident that both parents were brought up under conflicting perceptions of right and wrong. 

I like to think that it is this same dynamic that has equipped me with the tolerance to view perspectives from both sides of the narrative, regardless of the controversy involved. At times, the duality was eye-opening. While at others, like the family dinners tainted by heated debates on the U.S. moon landing—not so much. Whether it be an opinion on vaccine mandates, gun control, or the death penalty, the answer was entirely dependent on which parent I asked. 

Raised under this dynamic, not only was I instilled with unwavering respect for the opinions and decisions of others, but also the importance of voicing my own. 

This ingrained ideal is precisely what pushes me to speak on such a contentious topic. 

It is not my intent to sit here and unravel my opinion on U.S. abortion rights. It is, however, my responsibility as a student journalist and young member of the affected party, to speak up when I feel injustices arise. 

I may or may not agree with the beliefs of my parents, friends, or peers, and that is something I can tolerate. I cannot, however, sit back and watch the personal and religious beliefs of the minority, make critical decisions on behalf of the majority—further eradicating the possibility of choice. The reversal of Roe v. Wade is not only an infringement on a woman’s constitutional right to an abortion, but it is also an infringement on freedom: an ideal that, ironically, the right-wing, desperately holds dear. 

In saying so, as I called my mother, concerning the freedom of choice recently stripped from the lives of millions of people, “awesome” was not the word I would have used to describe it. 

Now I, along with the women of my generation, are faced with the undeniable truth that we will live with less freedom than our mothers did. We will grow up in a country that prides itself on “freedom,” unless, of course, that freedom grants women the ability to exercise bodily autonomy. 

Time and time again, if it’s not a religious-based rejection, the counterargument is usually: “We are speaking up for the voiceless.” But in order accomplish this, must we silence the voices of our sisters, daughters, and mothers in the process? 

Desperate to understand why we must live under a judicial system that yields more authority over our bodies than we do, I pleaded to my mother over the phone. While exchanging thoughts on the Roe v. Wade ruling, I grieved, she celebrated and the gap between our opinions became painfully obvious. 

In saying so, this is nothing new to me. Like many, I teeter on the fence between the opinions of my parents and the opinions that I have yet to develop. As a young woman—for the first time making informed conclusions about the world around me, away from the watchful eyes of a family, I often find myself torn. It’s through the guidance of my divergent upbringing and my—sometimes too opinionated family—that reminds me of the power in speaking your truth. 

Just as I was raised to respect the opinion of others, I was raised to speak my own— which is precisely what I intend to do. 

The views expressed in this article are those of the author. They do not reflect the opinions or views of The Pioneer Newspaper or it’s members.