I had an abortion in 2010, and there were protestors at my clinic in Florida. That prompted me to want to do something to make people feel supported. When I was at the clinic, I had a family member there to support me; but as I was looking around, I could see that people seemed to look alone and isolated in the experience. I heard women in the room talking about the protestors and how upsetting they were. I had heard about a group that volunteers at a clinic in Kentucky that does some harrowing things to support people accessing abortion, and I was inspired by their activism.

A few years after my first abortion, I realized I was pregnant again. I was living in North Carolina and working for an abortion provider; I asked my boss how I could get an abortion from her. I had to receive an ultrasound even though I knew exactly when I conceived the pregnancy, and I knew I had no signs of an ectopic pregnancy. I had to hear the state-mandated script about the risks, even though I worked with a provider and regularly provided options counseling. Then I had to wait an additional three days before getting my medication abortion, because the state said so. The whole process was sobering, insulting, and really drove home how demeaning and demoralizing these added barriers are.