“With words burned into your memory ‘I don’t support you’, I pull up to the clinic. There’s protesters in masks holding up “pro life” signs. I swallow the lump in my throat. I was once fully prepared to throw up two middle fingers to these people, but decide to not give them that sort of attention. Instead, I let out a few tears just before going inside. This wouldn’t be the only time that tears slide down my cheeks today. This doesn’t mean that you’re not brave, sometimes being brave can mean crying. …As I leave the building, I think…I’ll always remember how everyone treated me that day – with nothing but kindness. Every nurse, the receptionist, and even the doctor that counted my tattoos and sang to you. I wonder, ‘Why do they care so much? Why are they so kind?’ I ponder this as I reflect on the support of abortion doulas and all that they do, as well. Something that I was told, ‘We want to help you in whatever way that might look for you.’ My experience wasn’t traumatic, not like...