Thursday, February 16, 2012
This is a photo of five men, testifying at a GOP led committee meeting on the insurance coverage of contraception, who are NOT experts in contraception, telling me the proper way to use it.
Which is, not to use it at all, unless I pay for it myself, and then I'd better feel ashamed about it.
You know who IS an expert on MY contraception use? ME. I am...The owner of MY ovaries and MY uterus and MY vagina and MY sexuality and MY limited capacity to rear children on public schoolteacher's income.
I'm tired of being told that providing insurance for birth control, or even access to it at all, is the floodgates to licentiousness. Before I'd had my tubal ligation I'd utilized much birth control to prevent pregnancies while I had perfectly moral missionary style sex with my husband.
After my tubal ligation, I utilized birth control to calm down my misfiring hormones so I wouldn't go about pissy and overly heated.
You know how far I had to drive to obtain birth control because at one time my town only had one pharmacy and a pharmacist who wouldn't dispense it because it went against his personal beliefs? 120 miles one way. That was both the next closest pharmacy and the nearest Planned Parenthood location. So I'd drive, buy three months worth from PP or Sam's Club, drive back, and still spend less than what my insurance wanted me to pay for it mail order.
That doesn't include a Nascar style pelvic exam either.
Then, before I was married, at the bright, shiny and legal voting age of 18, I didn't have private or anonymous access to birth control at all. Abstinence only sex education was the only moral choice and access to BC would make girls into accessable sluts thus ensuring the downfall of society. The condoms we used failed. That kid is 18 in a week and apparently he wants to become a sailor. You'd better believe I've taught him better sex education than to sew up his zipper and stick his fingers in his ears.
What's more...and here's the showstopper...I ENJOY SEX. I like to have orgasms. With my husband. Who also enjoys sex. We like to have sex without the fear of conceiving every time Tab A even approaches Slot B. We like having the ability to not be slaves to my ovaries and his sperm. We like having a full sexual experience when we choose to. If I wasn't married? Or sterilized? Maybe I'd want to have sex anyway, because I'm a normal sexual being.
You hear that you old and celibate family values and religious freedom eejits? I'm a human with a brain perfectly capable of making my own health and family decisions and YOU HAVE NO BUSINESS BEING IN MY PANTS. Unless you are invited and you've bought me a nacho cheese chalupa and an empanada without a coupon at the Taco Hell drive through. Otherwise, get out. You do not get to tell me which consenting adult to have sex with, when, how and whether or not I should bear children. You do not get to tell me that a medication that is essential to my quality of life is against your moral code and therefore should be extranneous when it comes to health. You do not get to tell a government that is not supposed to espouse religion, who you take funding from and don't pay taxes to, what God will and will not tolerate in his budget.
Sit on my middle finger and spin.
...and don't you dare get excited about that prospect.
Posted by The Absent Minded Housewife at 9:32 PM
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