Transcending Taboos: Telling Your Own Truth

10 years earlier...

This isn't happening, I thought, as I sat in the chair of my doctor's office. This can't be happening! Not to me!

He smiled and congratulated me, but instead of sharing in his vicarious joy my eyes filled with tears. Panic wrapped around my heart, causing it to beat in a very uncomfortable rhythm. In my hand I was holding the white stick that confirmed the truth. I was pregnant. I couldn't deny it any longer. Or could I?

Today...

Terminating that pregnancy was as much a panicked reaction as it was something I fully stood by without a doubt my mind. At that time it was simply the right thing to do under the circumstances. So, however difficult the decision was, it was an easy choice to make. Ten years later I still stand by my decision. And yet, I could not have predicted the feelings of shame and self contempt I felt as a result of my choice.

I kept it a secret to my family for many years. I was scared of what they might think and how they would react. Angry? Disappointed? Sad? And so I remained silent, not realising that I risked so much more by making it a taboo.

Carrying this with me for such a long time has had quite an impact on my life, and the freedom I've felt to live it fully and completely. Ultimately, it wasn't the judgment of others that made me hide away the truth. It was my own assessment of what I did and what had happened. I feared what it would say about me having done something like that. I had given it a great many toxic meanings and I judged myself harshly. If I kept it hidden, I figured I could pretend that it wasn't there. Not attending to wounds properly prevents us from healing. Wounds simply aren't supposed to be stitched up and closed before they've been thoroughly cleaned. I never knew that the problem was with my frames about my choice, not the choice itself. Had I known, I could have dealt with it much sooner and in a more effective way.

Before I was faced with the decision to have an abortion, I had a very strong opinion on the subject. In fact, I had strong opinions on many subjects. I grew up with a way of thinking that was filled with right and wrong. In having those clearly defined boundaries, I grew up with a sense of safety. Little did I know that it was a false sense of safety, because the world simply isn't all that black and white. When I found myself in this situation, my view on the world got turned upside down. My heart told me I was doing the right thing, but what about all those things I learnt about how to live? Wasn't I supposed to take responsibility for my actions?

Responsibility and ‘doing the right thing' were words that - in the world I grew up in - had clearly defined criteria. In the case of getting pregnant that meant following it through to the end, regardless of what you wanted or felt. You just had to suck it up and live with the consequences. They were linked with "should" and "ought to" rather than following the purity of one's heart. While that never settled with me, I did question my own opinion on it. So after doing something that was wrong not only in my own eyes but also in the eyes of my environment, I needed to re-evaluate my norms and values. I had to find my own "truths" about life. In my own way, on my own terms, in my own time.

There are many other concepts in our life - career, marriage and divorce, race, sex, etc - for which there exist many different views on what is right and what is wrong. Perhaps this kind of black and white thinking is where the real problem lies. In the philosophical dilemma around these kinds of concepts there are no real answers. There are only questions. It's up to each and every one of us to make up our own mind about it. That's when we can start to be response-able for ourselves and to others.

Instead of getting stuck in a right/wrong battle - even if it is inside our own mind! - we need to be able to face the facts, listen to our hearts and then decide on a course of action. No blame. No shame. We review our situation, we accept the fact of it, and we change it for the better. That's what I call responsibility. In my own experience that's a great deal more valuable than beating yourself up. Responsibility is active, it improves things. Blame just makes you feel bad.

It took me eight years before I was finally able to open up and share my secret with my family. Once I transcended the right/wrong thinking in my own mind, I realised that while this experience is part of my past but it doesn't define me as a person. I made a choice and it was the right thing to do. For me. That's when I could tell my own truth and hear the truth of others too. I felt strong and confident enough to be able to let my family react to the news without taking it personally, whether it was in sadness, anger, blaming or judging. Or with the compassion and care they actually met me with.

It was then that the real healing could begin, and scars could start to form. And here's the thing about scars: they're not just evidence of old hurts. Most of all, they're evidence that healing has occurred.