I never imagined there would be a single moment in my life that felt like everything fractured at once — my identity, my faith and my sense of worth to God. What I have come to understand is that abortion is rarely the true beginning of the story. It is often the visible wound that reveals years and years of invisible ones.
My decision did not look like freedom, nor did it come from strength. It came from the fear of shaming my family even more than I had already with my bad decisions, and that now these choices have culminated in the unspeakable. You see, I hadn’t shared with anyone the secrets of my hard times, and the profound lack of self-love and care that came from believing the lies I’d been telling myself, that I was not good enough, a huge disappointment and utterly unlovable. When shame becomes heavier than hope and fear louder than truth, choices are made from survival, not clarity. This was my reality and the beginning of carefully hiding my shame; the cruel tactic of the enemy to keep me bound.
What followed my abortion was not relief but fragmentation — emotionally, spiritually and physically. Grief had no language; sorrow had no permission. The pain did not disappear because it was unspoken; it simply went underground, waiting to be healed … for almost 30 years.
Whether a woman suppresses it or speaks it aloud, the experience leaves a mark on the soul that must be tended to and, for me, God called me to Catholicism. As I began learning about my Catholic faith and how personal it is, I knew that I must make a confession … and Jesus met me there, not with condemnation but with truth. In the sacrament of reconciliation, I encountered a mercy unknown before that began to dismantle the lies I had told myself for years. This is when I came to believe something that changed everything: I am not my sin or my worst decision. I am not beyond redemption. I am, and always had been, a beloved daughter of God.
I began to see that forgiveness is allowing Jesus Christ to enter my deepest places of pain and declare that sin does not have the final word — He does. His forgiveness of me began to restore my identity and reordered what shame has distorted. It did not erase responsibility, but it was transforming guilt into grace and grief into my mission.
As healing unfolded, the Lord began to show me that what the enemy intended for destruction, He could redeem for good. Humbly, the call to help other women was emerging, but I felt the heaviness of my pride and the fear that if anyone ever knew what I had done, that I would be robbed of the carefully crafted “Shannon” I had created …
Restored by His grace, I could no longer make decisions out of fear or shame and that if I truly believed I was forgiven, I would have to trust in God’s divine will for my life. Letting go meant risking the defenses I had built to survive. It meant allowing God to love me where I actually am, not where I pretended to be. Genesis 50:20
Now, I help with a new apostolate, Second Fire, where women who have found healing from post-abortive trauma help other women find God’s healing and mercy. Second Fire is where God reveals the truth of our identity, despite our sins, with clarity and compassion. Women are accompanied in their healing journey through Bible studies, prayer and friendship, with the hope that the experience will culminate in a restored identity and renewed purposed for every woman.
For more information about Second Fire, please email healing@secondfire.org.