I’m one of the luckier ones. Among my close friends growing up, one was groomed and raped aged 14 by her 28-year-old “boyfriend.” Another was attacked and raped by someone she’d been dating (he was angry when she dumped him). Another was left with catastrophic injuries from childbirth, which made further pregnancies perilous. We were privileged, educated, fairly savvy teenagers, then young women, then mothers. Whether through shocking instances of violence, or the blurred edges of consent, or mundane contraceptive accidents, we all have our stories.
