I am not my own

I’m tired of people telling me that my body is my own, that whatever I chose to do with it is my right. I’m tired of people talking about my rights, telling me what my rights are. How about this? I reserve the right, to know my rights, and deny any rights I don’t feel are my own.

I stated earlier this week, that I am a pro-life liberal. I am also a historical feminist; the Susan B Anthony type, the pro-life type. I believe in equal pay for equal work. I want to be judged by my character not my skirt length. I believe any type of violence against women should not be tolerated.

All that being said, modern feminism, that confuses the good of equal rights with the right to kill children, just infuriates me. This type of feminism does this under the guise of the right to choose what I want to do with my body. I read a poem from this view point in a teacher’s resource catalog. It was on a poster to be put in a classroom. I'm tempted to post a picture, but it's so appaling I just can't. This poem told me that “priests and legislators do not hold shares in my womb or my mind.” It told me that my body was my own. It went on to inform me that my life was a “non-negotiable demand.” How foolish.

I am not my own, my body is not my own, anything that will ever live in it or be born out of it will not be my own. I am not confused, I am not addled. I am not brainwashed by religious forces in my life. I am not controlled by shame or guilt. There is something bigger then me. There is someone who supersedes my rights, my life. I am not my own. I do not demand my own life. Who am I to demand such things? Who am I to declare my own rights? I am not my own.

Put that on a poster.