The Pro-Life Book that Turned Me Pro-Choice

Oct 22

When I was 15, my older cousin handed me The Atonement Child. We were lounging on the beach, surrounded by aunties and the late summer sun, as my cousin excitedly raved, "Every woman needs to read this!"
As the youngest among my cousins, I looked up to them. They had boyfriends, confidence, and experiences I admired. I couldn’t wait to dive into this book that was so highly praised.

I grew up in a moderate family within a conservative extended family. My relatives were devout Catholics, with one “wild” Episcopalian Christian. My family attended a Lutheran church, but only on Christmas and Easter. Topics like feminism, women’s rights, and abortion were never discussed. While I knew our family wasn’t liberal, I didn’t fully grasp what that meant. I was told I could form my own opinions, but my sources were carefully curated for me.

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The book opens with the idyllic life of a young, wealthy, good Christian girl attending a Christian college. She meets a perfect Christian boyfriend and his perfect Christian best friend. But one night, while walking home, she is brutally raped by a stranger. Afterwards, dazed, her clothes torn and blood-stained, she makes her way to the hospital. She can’t quite comprehend what has happened or what it means for her future. She doesn’t understand the pill offered to her by the nurse.

She’s in shock. She’s in pain. She feels conflicted and scared. She doesn’t take the pill. She thinks her family and her boyfriend wouldn’t want her to. Later, when her perfect boyfriend learns she was raped, he breaks up with her. He can’t bear the thought of touching someone who has been “ruined.” In his eyes, and in the eyes of God, she is no longer an innocent virgin.

She finds out she’s pregnant.

She’s afraid to tell her family and feels utterly alone. The best friend, a fervent pro-life missionary, steps in as a "hero" to save the child growing inside her. He proposes marriage, promising to hide her secret and raise the child so no one ever knows the truth.

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The definition of atonement is “reparation for a wrong.” But at the close of this book, I was left wondering: Who was wrong? Was it the girl, for “getting herself” into this situation? The boyfriend, for abandoning her because she was no longer "pure"? Or the rapist, whose violence is barely acknowledged?

I couldn’t stop thinking about her. What happened five years later? Did their relationship last? Or did he disappear as soon as the child was born, as so many pro-life advocates do after birth? Did she get counseling for the trauma she endured? Did anyone ever truly listen to her?

This book shamed her for being raped.
It implied that God cares more about punishing a broken hymen and a uterus than the monster who shattered her life.
It suggested that a cherished partner won’t want to touch a woman who’s been assaulted.
It declared that rape is a woman’s cross to bear.
This book, revered by many in my family and church community, was pro-life propaganda wrapped in a devastating story.

That book didn’t just ruin the life of its main character. It ruined me too.

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What Really Prevents Abortions

Avoiding the subject won’t prevent abortions.
Sex-shaming women and girls won’t prevent abortions.
Your religion won’t prevent abortions.
Eliminating the right to an abortion won’t prevent abortions—but it will prevent safe ones.

According to the World Health Organization, abortion rates are similar in countries where it is legal and where it is restricted—40 per 1,000 women versus 36 per 1,000 women, respectively. What restrictions do prevent are safe abortions (WHO). Research proves that regardless of legality, people will still seek them out. The best way to prevent abortions isn’t to take away access; it’s to educate people. Educate youth about sexuality, consent, intercourse, and options. Answer their questions (because whether we admit it or not, they have so many). Make them feel as comfortable asking about sex as they are asking why the world is round.

Roe v. Wade isn’t a political shuttlecock to be tossed between Democrats and Republicans. It’s about women’s existence and safety. It’s about what happens after the umbilical cord is cut and real life begins.

In 2019, the Guttmacher Institute reported that 58% of U.S. women of reproductive age—nearly 40 million women—lived in states hostile to abortion rights. By contrast, only 35% lived in states supportive of those rights. That’s 40 million women living in places where their reproductive rights are endangered (Guttmacher Institute). That’s too many. It’s shameful, and it’s dangerous.

We must validate all women’s experiences when it comes to abortion. Some women regret their decision and don’t want others to endure the same pain. Some women are relieved. Some women are the product of a mother who changed her mind. Everyone has a story. What matters is the privilege of having a choice.

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Pro-Choice Is Not Anti-Life

No one wants to have an abortion. Pro-choice advocates aren’t encouraging women to put themselves in such situations. We acknowledge the reality of the female experience. Accidents happen. Situations change. Women are attacked. Women are blamed.

Pro-choice doesn’t mean anti-life. It means giving women authority over their own bodies—an authority so easily stripped away. It means educating people about their options, providing fair counseling, and offering unbiased support during terrifying times.

The girl in The Atonement Child deserved the chance to choose for herself without external guilt. And so does every other woman.