There’s a medicine that, in half a century of use, has been linked to a grand total of zero deaths or serious complications. It’s safer than aspirin. Physicians willingly admit that their advice is not needed for it to be taken correctly. The largest organization of pediatricians in the nation is urging its members to pre-write prescriptions for patients who may need it, because it’s so safe they believe everyone should have access without visiting a doctor.
This medicine is often desperately needed. It must be taken within a specific 120 hour period in order to be effective. It prevents a condition that can be devastating to the people it affects, especially young people, who are more likely to develop depression, drop out of school, and even die. Furthermore, if young people can’t get this medicine when they need it, they are more likely to spend their lives in poverty, never marry, and have their kids end up in jail.
So why has the supposedly progressive Obama administration repeatedly spoken out against making this medicine available over-the-counter to young people, even after a federal judge ruled that girls under seventeen must be given access to this medicine? Why would the president go against all scientific evidence and say that the medicine “could be dangerous if misused”?
Because the medicine is emergency contraception, the medical condition it treats is pregnancy, and Americans are terrified of teenage girls being in control of their own sexuality.— Anya Josephs, Girls of All Ages Need Access to Emergency Contraception (via sparkamovement)
People who don’t remember their childhoods are weird to me*
And my BF is one of them. To me, it’s like…wow, there’s this whole huge portion of your life that’s just…missing. And I guess it doesn’t seem weird for them at all.
One the one hand, I do realize that my development was unusual to say the least, since I began to speak at 6 months old and could read and write before I was 2, and I think that probably had some effect on my ability to form memories.
But like…everything from my childhood was so very there, so many people and places and things and sights and sounds. Everything was so immediate and tangible. There are conversations I can remember verbatim, like when a friend-cousin and I held an impromptu funeral for a snail, the time my cousin-cousin wrote all over her toys with a marker and tried to blame it on ME when I was 2 and she was 3 1/2, The time me and my next-youngest sister decided to make soup out of grass (the broth was reminiscent of seaweed soup but the grass was too tough to actually chew-otherwise quite tasty), The boy who sold his mother’s tamales door-to-door and made quite a tidy profit, buying mangos from the ice cream man and having sticky elbows from the juice dripping, the fucked up personalities of our friends’ parents, the time we found a box of kittens whilst dumpster-diving, and like…everything. An entire life.
It’s so weird to talk to people who seem to have sprung mostly fully-formed from the foam like Venus or something. The same way it’s weird to talk to people who don’t dream, or dream about video games or movies only. For me it’s like, “But how do you function without being able to visit with your loved ones who have passed or just passed out of your life? How do you know who you are if you don’t know who you used to be? How do you know you’re really here if you’re never anywhere else?”
Maybe this is part of why it’s so hard for me to understand other people.
*excludes people who don’t remember their childhoods because of abuse. That’s a whole other thing.
I remember after years of hearing other people talking about their childhoods (and not remembering it, especially the earliest parts), I was startled when I first realized that yes I definitely clearly remember things from when I was two and three. Like, I’ve retconned all the TV shows and movies that I watched in the first three years of my life to be mid-80s because I assume that must be the earliest I’d be able to remember, then Wikipedia makes a liar of me.
And then I start counting birthdays and realize that I remember all my birthdays after the first one. I also found out that I remember when I said my first recognizable words (I was ordering breakfast), though I didn’t remember what was significant about that, just that I spoke and everybody seemed really astonished when I just wanted waffles. It was only when my mother told the story from her point of view that it fell into context.
This is fascinating to me. My sister who is 15 months younger than I am can remember so much more about our childhood than I can. I have some vivid memories, here and there, but the rest is mostly just a fog. I can’t think back to specific birthdays. I knew there were a few there. I can remember my dress and a gift at one of them, but I don’t remember how old I was, and I likely only remember the other parts thanks to photos.
She can remember me drinking a glass of wine that my father had left out for a moment, spinning around and around in a drunken jubilant dance and knocking over a lamp which shattered upon impact with the floor. i was 3 and she was 2.
I don’t remember this at all. Did it happen and I don’t recall because of wine and or poor memory, or is she just an interesting story teller?