It's Just Rough Sex!!

The clean shaven guy in the suit sat with his female attorney by his side, her hand on this arm.  Hey...  it was just rough sex...  she liked it...  she was flirting with me...  I just gave her what she wanted... she was old enough to know what she was doing.  That's what the rapist said on the stand.  That's why he got away with it...  again!! 

Rape is a crime.   period...

44% of rape victims are under 18 years of age.... 80% are under 30 years of age... approximately 200,000 women are raped each year in the United States... 54% of rapes are never reported to the police... 97% of rapists never spend one day in jail.

Look at these sobering statistics. If the Supreme Court should overturn Roe vs Wade because a President appointed an anti-choice judge?  If congress passed a law signed by an anti-choice President that makes abortion in America illegal...  with exceptions in cases of rape, incest or the life of the mother?

Just exactly who determines if the woman was raped?  If the rapist says it was consensual sex who do politicians believe?  Do we wait until a jury decides?  By then it may be too far along in the pregnancy...  Do we let the police decide?  Do we let the health insurance industry decide?  Who decides?  How exactly do we create a working policy that supports such a position?

It is demoralizing, demeaning and soul crushing to be raped.  To be forced to carry the child of a rapist to term because politicians in your own government decided to outlaw access to safe abortion is to strike at the very essence of freedom for women throughout the world.  We in America are supposed to be a shining light... an example of decency and humanity to the rest of the world... a proponent of womens rights for other countries to emulate.

The founding principles of our country are that we as immigrants came here to escape religious persecution... not to create it.  If your faith allows you to believe that life begins at conception that is your perogative and no one has the right to tell you otherwise.  If you don't believe that there is a God, you have that right and no one can tell you otherwise.  But neither the person who believes that life begins at conception nor the person who doesn't believe there is a God have the right to impose their beliefs on anyone else.  That is the essence of the religious freedom that we cherish so dearly in America.  That is the reason for the separation of Church and State that has kept our country sane for all these years.

Women are intellegent, hard working human beings who are capable of deciding within their own heart how best to deal with such a horrific situation.  We do not need anyone to make our decisions for us.  We do not need to be fixed...  we only need validation from those whom we love and cherish. 

Let us not pursue a course that begins the very persecution that our forebears left behind when they came to America and founded our nation over 200 years ago.

Please think carefully about what kind of nation we are leaving our daughters and grandaughters... We are responsible for the consequences of our choices today.

Bedtime Story

Let me tell you a bedtime story...

I open my eyes and blearily look around the room.  It's barely light outside.  I can see the leaves through the crack between where the window shade ends and the sill begins.  They are turning different hues of orange and red.  I still see a few that are green.  It must be autumn.  The room looks the same as it does each day.  Oddly familiar but strange.  I struggle to sit up.  Everytime I move some part of me hurts.  It feels as though I have been beaten within an inch of my life.  I sigh.  There's no point...  my head feels fuzzy and I can't remember.  After a very long time I stand.  I feel unsteady and grip the bars along the bottom of the bed.   They too seem odd...  I don't recall them being there the last time I stood in this room.   I shuffle along to the door and try the handle.  As usual it's locked.  I walk very slowly back to the bed and stop to rest.  I feel exhausted...  drained...  I look across the polished wooden floor to the mirror hanging just above the dresser.  I stand and walk over to the dresser staring at the woman who looks back at me with hollow eyes and gaunt cheeks.  Part of me knows who she is and why she is here...  but another part of me is filled with rising panic as I stare into her vacant gaze.  Suddently the woman in the mirror sneers at me  spitting epithets and vile accusations.  I cover my ears and turn away in horror.  I cross quickly to the bed and slink under the covers hugging my pillow and rocking myself.  Soon I hear the sound of the door being unlocked and the woman comes into the room.  She reaches out to touch my head and I cringe but she strokes my hair gently.  I hear the sound of her footsteps back across the floor then the click of the lock. And soon I fall back to sleep. 

Who is this woman? 
Why is she locked in this room? 
Why is she so terrified?
What has happened to her?