She had an abortion, isn’t ashamed. Well, that settles it!

The headline splashed across a recent Salon article reads, “I had an abortion and I’m not ashamed.” It hangs over a sepia-toned photo of a young woman vacantly staring into camera. That sepia tone effect–Instagram, I suspect–can’t even add much earthy liveliness to that cold face doing its best to convey defiance.

Well, okay. She’s ‘not ashamed.’ Issue settled. Thanks Salon!

To her credit, she does tell us very clearly why she killed it.

I didn’t have an abortion because I was raped, or because my life was in danger, or because the fetus was the product of incest. I had an abortion because I had recreational sex, got unintentionally pregnant, and wasn’t ready or willing to be a mother. This is something I haven’t written about before, but there comes a point when staying silent begins to look like shame — and I am not ashamed.

Sex. But only the front part of it. Not the crust. Not the peeling. Not the seeds. Not the fruit.

Let’s hope she doesn’t find out how, like, unorganic that is. She’ll never be able to show her face at Trader Joe’s.