- / Anon’s Story
I had just returned from the national March for Life in Washington, D.C., when I looked down at the positive pregnancy test in my hand, my boyfriend at my side. Time stopped as I felt my heart thump faster and faster—loudly—and despair and panic set in.
“I messed up so bad,” I cried as my knees buckled under the crippling anguish and disbelief.
I had lived a double life for most of my teenage years. My extensive involvement in my faith community, athletics, and music masked a struggle with chastity that I secretly couldn’t shake. Mothers would often approach me with their young daughters after I’d finish singing at Sunday Mass, sweetly saying, “My daughter wants to be just like you!”
Yet, behind the veil I presented to adults, I consistently bowed to the pressure of maintaining the “cool” and “popular” reputation I had with my high school peers.
For years, I rebelled from the countercultural example of my parents, who encouraged me to practice my faith in every way. I knew better, and even though I continued to fall, I felt that God was calling me to something higher—to which my response was always, “I’m not ready yet.”