by Michele Cheresnick, LAS, Affiliation Coordinator

Some seasons invite celebration. Others invite presence. Some days call for grand gestures; other days call for quiet listening, for staying, for just being with someone as they carry what is hard to name. In those quiet moments, love, care, and safety quietly take shape.

In a world that often rushes past pain, choosing to stay and offer a safe place for truth may be one of the most meaningful valentines we can give. Speaking openly about abortion can feel risky. Many women carry questions, regret, shame, or unresolved grief quietly, unsure whether it is safe to speak—or whether their story will be met with care.

What I’ve learned is this: safety isn’t created by having the right words. It’s created by being willing to stay when the words finally come.

In our centers, we can feel pressure to know exactly what to say, especially when abortion enters the conversation. We want to be helpful, gentle, and wise. We don’t want to cause harm. But whether a woman is still considering abortion or carrying a past abortion story, whether she’s a client or a coworker—she is often listening for something simpler:

Is this a place where I can tell the truth and still be welcome?

Truth after an abortion rarely comes all at once. It comes in fragments, in pauses, half-finished sentences, sometimes years later. Many women who have experienced abortion learned early that silence felt safer than honesty, especially if they sensed their story might make others uncomfortable. 

Staying—emotionally, relationally, and compassionately is what makes room for the truth to breathe.

This matters not only for the women we serve, but also for those of us who are doing the serving. Some pregnancy help workers and volunteers have experienced abortion and stepped into this work hoping to give what we ourselves never received. And while that desire often comes from a place of deep compassion, it doesn’t erase our own need for care.

Self-love here isn’t indulgence or self-centered. It’s honest.  Caring for others doesn’t disqualify us from needing care ourselves. In fact, our own healing deepens our ability to stay present when another woman finds the words she’s been holding back.

This posture of staying becomes especially important when we think about all the women who don’t come back. Many who have abortions after visiting a pregnancy help organization never return. Not because the center failed them, but because shame, grief, or fear quietly convinces them the door has closed. They may assume everything will now be awkward or heavy or focused solely on the abortion. So they disappear, often believing they must carry their pain alone.

Reaching out to someone who has had an abortion can feel intimidating.  We worry about saying the wrong thing. But reaching out isn’t about getting her to come back; it’s about letting her know she was never forgotten.

Sometimes love looks like a single message sent with no expectation of response. A gentle check-in that says, “You still matter.” No explanation. No lesson. Just presence, offered from a distance.

Simple words are often enough:

• “I’ve been thinking about you and wanted you to know you’re not forgotten.”
• “I don’t need anything from you—I just wanted to check in.”
• “Whatever you’re feeling right now, you don’t have to carry it alone.”

Naming safety matters too:

• “If you ever want to talk, now or later, this is a safe place.”
• “You don’t have to have the right words here.”
• “There’s no pressure and no timeline.”

For women who may never return, it can be powerful to say, “You’re welcome here whenever you're ready.” 

Staying doesn’t always look like ongoing contact. Sometimes it looks like trusting that the kindness offered once still matters.

This Valentine’s Day, love may not look like hearts or flowers. It may look like restraint. The choice not to rush, not to fix, not to fill silence with answers. It may look like a calm, steady presence, an open door, or a message that asks nothing in return. 

Because safety isn’t created by having the right words. It’s created by being willing to stay when the words finally come.