Our story, the story of all of us, begins in the vast Blackness of the universe—in the combustion among stars; in the dark waters of this planet where so many life forms began before us; within the courageous and curious ones who made a life on land. We became who we are―humans―deeply connected to this planet and its many creatures. We grew within the wombs of people with cocoa brown skin. Us—the seeds—protected within. A part of it all. Not separate.

We were born of wombed ones the color of nature, coated in the darkness that is the origin of all life. Entrusted by nature with the power to create a species. Trusted to know how and when. Trusted to bring about a people, through their bodies. Trusted to ensure the world around was safe and ready for new life.

We honored those original mothers. We carved stone in their image. We worshipped their beauty, trusted their knowing, respected their gifts, protected their power. We were raised in communities at one with the land and life around and beyond them. We were nature.

Our species grew into communities where our needs—for safety and nourishment, for acknowledgement and satisfaction—were met. We were powerful together. All of us natural. All of us welcome.

Eventually, we populated the planet. Our nature took on many hues, languages and styles. Somewhere along the way, people became hungry for power outside their own. They misunderstood the power of the womb as a threat. They believed controlling the wombed ones would give them power to control the entire planet. They set out to dominate bodies, land, even imagination. Acting from fear, shame, envy and greed, they harmed, shackled and traded in the bodies and families of the cocoa brown wombed ones. They placed us—our power—at the bottom to be abused, ridiculed, stifled and buried.

They created groups, based on false divisions, and seeded hate from differences. They enlisted their descendants to treat us as objects, less than human, rather than honoring the humanity we birthed. They willfully and violently denied our origins, our ancestors’ power, and the reverence and respect they deserve.

We have children and we have abortions, and they made us distrust our own innate power to decide when, and how, to bring forth life—if at all.

The way they used their power threw off the natural balance of the species, the earth and all its creatures. They tried to make us all forget who we came from and what it feels like to thrive in harmony and balance.

But we, descendants of the cocoa brown wombed ones, never forgot.

We created ways of remembering passed down through our blood, our stories, our recipes and our practices. We know who we are. We know the wombs from where we are born. We know of their power imbued in us. We know, deep within, the truth of who we are and what we deserve. We remember the old ways and live them in new times.

Our quest for freedom continues—freedom from the power-hungry, those that would have us remain in shackles, and from the systems and weapons they continue to create to restrict and annihilate us. We believe in the power of our original mothers and those who embody their legacy today. We believe in Black women. We honor Black women. We protect Black women. We are Black women, Black wombed ones and those who love Black women. Black women need not save us, for we―cocoa brown, Black, dark, light and every shade of being―collectively will save ourselves by always working toward the freedom of Black wombed ones. It is our duty, all of ours.

In the evolution of this physical, material life, everyone’s freedom will only be secured when all Black wombed ones are fully free. When our origins are stifled, all that spring from them are stifled, too. Our realization of this freedom vision keeps us living in the abundance of our origins and the possibilities of our freest futures.

We tell this origin story so we may all remember where we come from. We acknowledge the wisdom Black wombed ones carry about the world, about their own bodies and about balance. We uplift and create cultures that repair our relationships to Black women―cultures that support, respect and trust Black women―which make possible a right relationship with the planet. We create policies and structures that reflect Black wombed ones’ wholeness and return them to their rightful power in society.

This vision for abortion freedom is an offering to all who resonate with a vision that centers the beautiful, resilient, resourceful, whole and expansive Blackness from which we all come and that we must honor if we are to live in the full possibility of who we are as humans. We believe we can manifest this future: one where we honor our origins and live in our nature; where our bodies are ours and free; where our needs and desires are fulfilled and our relationships are consensual and satisfying; where our families are grounded and supportive; where our communities bustle with creativity and our societies flow resources to meet our needs with ease; where our experiences of pregnancy, birth and abortion are whatever we want them to be, and our futures are filled with the love and possibility we have poured into the present.

We are the ancestors our future descendants are ready for. With this offering of words, images, music, sound, breath, belief and all the inspired and aligned work that will flow from it, we are creating this world and future NOW. We write this vision in the present from the perspective of those future descendants who live in the freedom tree whose seeds we planted. We write it for us in the present so that we may tap into what it feels like to be free and know it in our bones to mold it into being. Join us as we not only imagine, but feel and know that this world is possible.

Now that we’ve recognized our origins, let us embrace our nature.

We are nature. We are natural. From our origins, all of humanity was Black, all of humanity is descended from Blackness and carries Blackness, and Black people embody every possible identity and way of being. There is no one way to be Black because there is no one way to be human. Blackness is all that is natural and human.

When all of us are natural, all of us are welcome. When all of us are welcome, we can bring all of us to life. Here, we live in full expression of all that we are, and our capacities for joy, healing and connection flourish. Our unique sexuality is understood and expressed as a vital aspect of our existence. We pursue our pleasure unapologetically. Our laughter bubbles up in the midst of pain. We see death as a part of life and celebrate the life that has or is being lived. We mourn and grieve while also knowing and trusting in the wholeness of the experience—that life is big enough to hold all that we experience … joy, pain, grief, celebration.

In our wholeness, we know whether, when and how our bodies want to bring forth life, or not. It is natural to be given the space, time and opportunity to determine whether we want to be pregnant and, if not, how we move forward no longer being pregnant. We look to nature for the wisdom, tools and resources to support us in carrying and nourishing a baby when it arrives, and to end a pregnancy and nourish our bodies through it.

The abortion experience shapeshifts, transforms and adapts to fit the cultural practices, historical origins, emerging knowings and material/lived conditions of the person experiencing it. Abortion is reflective of our natures rather than an experience of a narrow version of humanity to which we must conform. Quite simply,

We have children or we don’t.

We have evolved past a medical system that did not care for Black people’s wellness and one that vilified the healers who cared for our own communities with their ancestral and innovative wisdom. We remember how Black people have been both exploited and made invisible by those who limit our power, shaming our every decision and punishing us for every circumstance to relegate our experiences to statistics and pawns in a political game.

Not here. Here, we are whole and regarded, treated and supported as such.

Here, our decision whether, when, how and if to bring forth life is respected and protected. We uplift and create cultures of respect and reverence for precious and powerful Black bodies to once again live in our nature and freedom. Those institutions in which Black people cannot be ourselves and in our power are abolished for they are counter to humanity. We uplift and create systems and institutions where Black people can express and enjoy their natural-born freedom to live in and guide their bodies.

Our bodies bloom with possibilities.

Here, we are able to fully enjoy our bodies, to appreciate our curves, to deeply appreciate pleasure offered and offer pleasure in return, without fear.

What it is to live in these bodies
So un-fraught,
All our possible futures
Stretched out in front of us into a golden horizon.

Our bodies are ours—the only thing we truly own and the most important. If we don’t own and control our bodies, we have nothing. Each person determines what happens to and within their one body. As the owners and stewards of these bodies, we must always have choices, complete divination in our bodies’ interactions. We decide the boundaries that support our bodies’ safety and wellness.

Black folx—Black women, trans and nonbinary people, in particular—continuously encountered boundary violations, forced to extend our bodies beyond their capacity and accommodate others’ needs and desires above our own at the expense of our own wellbeing.

No longer.

We lived in a culture that continuously denied Black people ownership over our bodies. These bodies have wounds, memories passed down through our DNA. We inherited conditions that continue to remind us of our place in this hierarchy.

Not here.

Here, in abortion freedom, we embrace these bodies—all of them. Here, we recognize there are infinite ways for bodies to be; you are born into a body and therefore it is correct. Our ancestors before us asked:

What if we accepted, embraced and loved all the things our bodies are and can do, all the ways we’re made? What if everyone were allowed to be and to flourish?

We answered: we would relish in the joy of being fully alive. We would celebrate that our bodies want joy, pleasure and sex for our own satisfaction. We would live unafraid of our own bodies and others’. We would live in and explore these bodies.

So we do.

No one would tell us what must and mustn’t be done with these bodies.

And they don’t.

We now live in a culture where each of us has complete liberation and personal sovereignty over one’s own body and the ability and support needed to end a pregnancy on one’s own terms. There is one body until there is more than one body ― and only the wombed ones can make that distinction, for ourselves.

We are the owners and keepers of our bodies. Entrusted by nature to bring forth (a) people.

We are respected as the keepers of these gates of life. Sometimes we open them, sometimes we close them.

We uplift and create cultures of protection so Black people belong first to ourselves. This allows us to heal, experience what we’re feeling and know what we need. Nothing happens to us or for us without our consent. We reclaim ownership over our bodies. We live in the fullest relationships with our own bodies, no longer denied.

We pass on this knowledge through our bodies to future generations who will know they belong to themselves. Who will know that their bodies are always whole and deserving of far more than survival. Generations who know their needs for love, care and sustenance are natural and rejoice in the ease of their fulfillment.

Ease

to feel light and
to live a life with peace of mind
knowing that I am loved and supported as I am,
all my needs met,
sovereign over my body

Our beautiful blooming bodies have needs and desires. Because we have full sovereignty over our own bodies, we can attune to these needs and desires. They are natural and they are human. In our abortion freedom reality, we affirm everyone’s needs and desires and ensure the supports available to fulfill them. We know we cannot meet all of our needs alone. We need love, connection, support and belonging. We need the care of others―sometimes family and friends, sometimes trusted healers and keepers of medicine, sometimes the support of the collective. With abortion freedom, we do not have to constrict or change our lives, bodies, cultures or beliefs in order to meet our needs. We can meet our needs without fear or scarcity.

To get here, we had to heal and overcome generational traumas of oppression that told Black folx we weren’t allowed to have needs and that our needs were wrong or bad and we deserved punishment for having and fulfilling them. The rest of society joined us in no longer believing that people could live without shelter, food, safety, acknowledgement, love, sex, community and the opportunity to grow into their fullness. We came to understand and embrace our sexuality in all its expressions. We initiated collective, systemic shifts and supports that made space for our wellness. More of us softened into collective acceptance and understanding of our decisions around pregnancy. We started wanting ease and freedom for everyone’s needs and desires to be fulfilled.

With our bodily sovereignty intact, we are able to attune to our bodies, our lives and our environments so when we find ourselves pregnant, we make the decision that is best for us. Abortion freedom means individuals assess their needs based on how they feel and what they want, not through past negative experiences, financial deprivation or current unsafe conditions. The decision to have an abortion is made freely. We do not fear having a child will mean we must forgo fulfilling other needs and desires. Our decision to have an abortion is not based on how much money we have, the judgments of others or whether or not we can access care. Accessing an abortion is as simple as deciding which method we want and reaching out for the support that suits us. It’s an enlightening, loving, mundane, and/or monumental experience. It is like every other supported experience of self care.

Our care is in service of our self-determination. All those we meet on this journey affirm our dignity; respect our values, languages and traditions; and reify our power. Our caregivers, healers and medicine keepers believe us, trust us and will provide us with the full spectrum of care inclusive of our desires and needs.

In this abortion freedom reality, people are in charge and know what’s happening to and with their bodies. No one is shamed for needing, wanting or having sex or an abortion. Rather, they are provided the support they need to have the abortion they want, in the way they want it, based on their personal needs, desires and experience. All we need is available when we need it. We are not expected to do it all ourselves. Primary among our needs is to be in healthy relationship with others. We do and have that.

What it is to hold each other,
Not braced for burden or impact or cold,
But for the simple pleasure of touch.
And trust.

We have children, or we don’t.
We have feelings, or we don’t.
We have heartaches, or we don’t.
But we are never alone.
(except when we want to be.)

Being in relationship with other humans is core to our survival and wellbeing. Relationships have the potential to fulfill both our desires and our needs. We are our survival, our thriving. We are the experience of love for each other. Energy moves between us. Our touch, even our presence, can calm, arouse and enliven another. We thrive with different kinds of relationships and ways of being together.

In this abortion freedom reality, we know how to care for each other without sacrificing ourselves. We see each other as whole and support each other to enjoy and thrive in our bodies, sexuality, pregnancies and relationships. We do not let shame dictate how we treat each other.

Those who held power wanted us to feel ashamed, to hide from each other and to judge each other when we were vulnerable or struggling. What began as a kidnapping from a homeland—a decimation of people and theft of lands, an eradication of names, language, culture and freedom—continued for centuries. It dictated our relationships, where we could live, whether we could marry and with whom our children belonged.

But we remembered.

Our ancestors passed on their survival tactics, developing systems of caring for each other. Our grannies caught babies, soothed through illness and guided through abortion. We shared resources among ourselves. For centuries, we found ways to nourish each other, to embrace one another in hard times, to find our healing paths together. Our resilience proved powerful and others joined us in deciding it was time for our systems, institutions, governments and policies to hold us on our journey rather than attempt to break us at every turn.

In right relationship―unconditional and unapologetic support―with Black people who give birth and have abortions, we saw a model for how all bodies should be honored. We started to see ourselves as we want to be seen and society supported us to be as powerful as we are. Here, we love and support without judgment. We feel in control of our bodies and our love so our relationships are consensual and strong. Our relationships deepen to grow roots and blossom into family trees of our wildest imagination.

Humans thrive with meaningful connections to each other. Families are a collection of these close and intimate relationships forged through blood, or birth, or love, or survival, or kinship, or all of these things. We make families to experience a depth of closeness, trust, safety and joy that enlivens and sustains us.

In this abortion freedom reality, all families are celebrated. There is no one right way to make or be a family, and we form families that uplift our values and fulfill our needs while our bodily sovereignty remains intact. There may or may not be children within a family. There may or may not be marriage. Within each family, there is love, and that is enough to make a family.

We affirm a person’s right to bear children— or not—and to change their minds throughout the course of their lives. We believe that each of us wombed ones knows best when and if we’d like to have or bear children as part of the families we create, and that each of us deserves the environments and conditions in which we and our loved ones will thrive. Family is a place where you can seek wise counsel or the varied experiences of others. But as we consider the impact our decisions have on those who love us, we will not compromise our knowledge and understanding of our bodies and our needs. Here, we can hold this complexity for it is life.

We have gone so far beyond the nuclear family, named after that deadly weapon, wielded to control and police our behavior or sexuality or decision-making. Our families live within and beyond the walls of home or the borders of nations.

It took time to heal from trauma, to free ourselves from limiting notions of pregnancy and family, though the wisdom was there all along.

We survived attempts to separate us and sever the most natural of bonds of parentage. The Black wombed ones took control of their own bodies and families by ending pregnancies when they saw fit. Sharing our histories and lineages through the generations was paramount to maintaining connection and intimate bonds. Because our familial ties were not defined by white supremacist conventions, we transcended the limitations of the family tree ― grafting to other branches and lines, propogating new buds rooted and established in love. We shared responsibilities for raising babies; we made families beyond blood. We fell in love. We adored each other so much that we are still here. And we knew more was possible for us. We wanted so much to experience the joy and love that comes from creating our own families, on our own terms. So, we did—and society followed suit.

Like a fibrous tree or tightly woven garment, family is pliable and porous, supportive and strong as the bonds that form it. We believe in familial support that is rooted in love and trust, not control and power. Familial bonds that allow us to flourish are necessary for a reclaiming of our ancestral knowledge. With strong and autonomous familial bonds, continuity in our lineage and the support we need to be ourselves, we go out into the world and create conscious communities that allow us all to thrive.

Here, we all have a home. We have family and community and wear trust like a quilt we have all stitched.
We care for one another because we want to see each other alive and thriving.

Communities are collections of connected peoples—individuals in relationships, families of blood and bond, people living in proximity of place and identity. They are people who look out for each other and show up in the struggle and the triumph and everything in between. We want our community to support us when and how we need it—seeing us as whole people with whole lives that may include and go far beyond births, miscarriages, abortions and deaths.

As a community shows up for any of life’s transitions, so too do they draw near when a community member needs and has an abortion, understanding it as neither a beginning nor an end, but a passage on an ever unfolding journey of a life to which they are deeply connected.

An abortion represents a transition, the tenor of which is defined by the person having the abortion. Community shows up to surround the person in love, providing whatever they need without judgment.

We bring offerings, warm embraces, cool compresses and the best wishes from all we know.

We want to be close to the people and places that feel like home, to reclaim our right to be in our communities as we move through pregnancy and abortion and all it brings up in us. Black women have survived despite toxic cultures where we were damned if we did, damned if we didn’t, in direct contrast to our honorable role in creating and sustaining humanity. Our communities conditioned us to shame ourselves for our decisions around pregnancy, abortion and parenting. Politicians passed laws, and oppressors and their descendants created cultures that made us push our abortions into the shadows. They used shame as a weapon to force us to isolate ourselves from friends, family and community at a time when we need to know we are not alone. Our communities that once blossomed in care for each other were divided by misinformation, furthering our collective trauma.

But we remembered. We reclaim our lineage.

We know that our first wombed ancestors, like so many creatures and life forms on earth, could both complete and end pregnancies. It was a part of the whole of life under any and all conditions. Their lives taught us that through the most troubling of conditions, when we have nothing at all, we have a caring touch, a hug, and that is how we heal.

Our bodies make our own medicine, or we help make it for each other. Our ancestors foraged flowers, leaves, roots and barks as our medicine, and so do we. They learned to discern a deadly hemlock from the flower of queen anne’s lace, which helped control their fertility. We expand upon their knowledge to develop technologies to empower us. We know the doctor to see, the pill to take, the place to call and the remedy to share with each other. We recover their ways and continue healing lineages, so we may safely care for each other.

Our communities can once again be places where healing happens. Where there are...

Keepers of knowledge for how to care for ourselves and each other.

Rituals that adore our bodies in their transitions.

Support crews with us on our journey for the time we need.

Places of healing, whether in clinics or on couches.

Autonomous individuals and thriving communities in equal measure.

I just felt like I could do anything and everything. I felt a charge, not only because it centered me, but because it made me realize that this will not happen in isolation. Our communities are so deeply intertwined.

In our beloved communities, we have our own healing and make our own medicine—whether that comes from our cabinet, growing up from a crack in the sidewalk, in the doctor’s office, in the mail or in our bathtub. We do not fear having enough money for there is enough for everyone; the services we need are covered and the healers are financially sustained for their gifts and contributions.

There are rites delivered and rituals convened to honor our lives. We cook up and share nourishment that helps our bodies and spirits heal.

Our ancestors were never—and we certainly are not—a “tragic consequence of our conditions.” Our conditions reflect the abundance alive in us, our communities and the greater societies to which our communities belong.

Our societies are collections of communities, deeply connected families and relationships of unique, individualized, autonomous bodies fulfilling our own needs and desires, naturally reflecting our origins. Communities are not isolated or alone to fend for themselves; we can draw on the wisdom and resources of other communities to support when needed. Where there were once borders, there are now gentle and supported transitions through different ecosystems, cultures and life experiences. Where there were once violent conflicts, there are now people gathered softly asking questions, sharing perspectives, generating solutions in principled struggle and building power together on a shared planet under a shared sky.

Understanding the needs and desires of all of us together, we organize societies to make things easier, to share and spread resources, to care for each other and the planet. The societies we create do not land on us. We nurture them intentionally, we adapt and respond to the needs of the whole, and our societies evolve with us. We are not afraid to admit when we fail to meet a need. We keep growing and building toward abundance. We are not afraid of conflict because we have the reserves and spirit to come out the other side with healing and greater depth.

Our ancestors planted seeds for the societies we enjoy and recreate today. They endured historic and persistent threats to their self-determination, bodily autonomy, and full control of their sexual and reproductive lives. The control and exploitation of Black women and their children’s bodies was a cornerstone of the systems and culture white people created to maintain dominance in those societies. When our ancestors reclaimed control of their bodies and reproduction, it threatened the established systems and culture. That is how the system fell and we are grateful.

The society we inherited and built anew centers the fullness of Black experiences to create the culture and conditions for Black people to heal and thrive. And we do.

The big changes didn’t all happen overnight, but slowly, like honey pouring out of a jar. You know it’s all going to tumble out, but you’re not exactly sure when.

To get here, we engaged in a process of reckoning and repair for centuries of violence, coercion and theft of Black people’s autonomy, fertility, children and futures. To create our societies anew, we looked to the systems Black and Indigenous peoples across the earth have created to sustain, support and thrive prior to, and in the midst of, oppression. Black people have always created systems of care and support for each other. To meet the needs of our people, our ecosystems have been complex and delicate. The society our ancestors seeded acknowledges Black people’s full human autonomy, trusts Black wombed ones’ power to birth or not and honors the way we live and make family.

In this society, we understand abortion as an important public good. We make it as easy and equitable as possible to fulfill their desires.

I couldn’t believe that it used to be a thing that was hard to get and people didn’t talk about. That must have been hard, but I’m glad you did it.

In this new society, abortion is available where and how you need it, in concert and conjunction with other resources you need to thrive. Society is not here to restrict rights or opportunities, but to fulfill desires a person or community cannot on their own. It is a pooling of resources, sharing of skills and an equitable delivery of support.

Our society recognizes the benefit of our varied bodies, choices and ways of being human. We thrive on this. Everyone will get their needs met, there will be myriad ways to serve the whole and there is enough for all. We celebrate and honor the healers and helpers in our communities for the ways they contribute to our communities’ health and wellbeing. Our society ensures that every community has all they need to care for their health, however they may choose.

There is no such thing as insurance in our society for we do not encourage people to live in fear of what if, nor do we assign a monetary value to our wellbeing or life expectancy or chronic conditions. Instead, we build society around the assurance that there is enough for everyone, that our needs are not too great and can be met by the whole. Rather than fear, we trust and experience how our systems are set up to provide care because we need it. Our transitioning public health systems prioritize the health of the poorest and the sickest among us, investing the most in the specific needs of those communities still recovering from centuries of divestment and trauma to repair and reflect their inherent wholeness. At the same time, our society can continuously recognize, uplift and learn from the ways Black communities and Indigenous communities the world over have created sustainable ecosystems to support each other. We look to those systems and the natural world to inspire us to be more interdependent and attuned with each other and the rest of the planet’s life forms.

We create and uplift cultures that understand abortion as important, necessary, expansive and adaptive, and the people who have them as worth loving, protecting and celebrating. Our society is neither individualistic nor entirely collectivist. We understand ourselves to be unique individuals with bodily autonomy and the capacity to make personal choices while taking into account collective impact. We create and uplift cultures built on mutuality where no one's needs matter more than others; where a healthy exchange of resources and ideas propel us forward; where we do not have all the answers, but the wisdom, humility and courage to ask each other questions.

Abortion can be darkness or light or that liminal moment when the sky lightens in the morning but the sun has yet to rise.

We want people having abortions to be seen and treated as whole people: people with the capacity to hold both darkness and light in equal measure, people with rich histories making nuanced decisions.

We have love and liberation in abortion experiences. We live in our full humanity, dignity and power. With abortion freedom, everyone is allowed the full range and breadth of their experience. Abortion can be the central experience of our lives, or it can be one of several stops along a winding road. In an abortion freedom reality, we are trusted with our bodies. They are ours to explore, care for and inhabit as we see fit.

Before our relationships to Black women’s wisdom were severed, there were Black women who were called and entrusted to care for their communities in all stages of life: through pregnancy, birth, puberty, aging, illness and death. Abortion was held in this continuum—as natural as any other stage—by Black midwives, the keepers of life. Their ancestral wisdom and medicines held bodies as they transformed and transitioned. In our abortion freedom reality, we repair that lineage by uplifting and creating cultures that support, respect and trust Black women. We create policies and structures that return Black women, wombed ones, healing practitioners and midwives to their rightful wholeness and power in society.

With this wisdom recentered and renewed, all pregnancy decisions are held with reverence and respect. What we want our life to look, feel and sound like are questions we are asked, and the answer is not pulled or rushed from us. There is enough time for someone to make a decision, to consider all that they want or need to before deciding what is best for them. There is no urgency that is prioritized over their needs and desires. Black people can flourish through our abortion experiences because ease and space are paramount. We have time to make a decision based on the dreams we have for our one precious life.

We each get to determine the support that is most nourishing to us. We are embraced in safety and comfort as we make decisions about pregnancy and receive care. We are treated with dignity and held in loving kindness and community.

And when we have made the decision to have an abortion, we are held by midwives and loved ones who trust us, who treat us with care and recognize our autonomy. We are surrounded by people we trust, who see us and allow us to feel everything that surfaces, without judgment. We end our pregnancies safely with herbs, with pills, by our own hands or by those of a practitioner. We decide what feels safest and right for us. In this abortion freedom reality, we have our abortions, we replenish with nourishing food and drink, and we rest.

All of our pregnancy experiences—including abortion—are regarded as powerful and worthy of awe and respect.

I am writing from the future in hope that you shift your strategies before it’s too late
to win something that it seems should be so simple.

What it is to inhabit the dreams bequeathed to us
By visioners
Who fought so we could rest/
So we could dance/
So we could love/
So we could be,
Unencumbered
By a pregnancy we do not want
Or the weight of others’ expectations.

We are writing ourselves into the future—us wombed ones—into the vast Blackness of the unknown, glittering with stardust. Creating and imagining and constructing our futures does not discard our origins, but is instead fueled by where we have been, who we have been. We are simultaneously who we have always been and who we have always imagined ourselves to be.

We are here and abortion freedom is our reality. There is deep honor bestowed upon each of us, and we in turn bestow honor upon others. There is love, there is equality, there is reverence. We are in awe of what our bodies do and what is possible through them when we have everything we need. We are abundant. Each of us can thrive. We rejoice together in our fullness, sharing from our overflow with each other in community, across societies, and our mother—our earth home—exhales.

Our choices, our actions, our values, our sense of self, our connections, our histories and our desires all collide and shape how we move through the world, how we experience one another, how we continue to construct what comes next. And it stretches out into a golden horizon. We whisper our joyful, tear-filled dreams into those ethers knowing we are the ancestors of our future descendants and these words and our deeds be the seeds of their becoming.