The end of Roe is changing friendships - for better or for worse
Miranda Dockett felt certain she was about to lose another friend.
After all, she had been watching them fall away over the past few months, as she became more vocal about her views against abortion. Then, in the wake of the Supreme Court's decision to overturn Roe v. Wade last month, Dockett, 31, readied herself for a worrisome confrontation with her childhood best friend.
The exchange lasted hours, she said, as the pair traded messages and news articles on Facebook days after the ruling. Dockett, a stay-at-home mom in Lansing, Mich., wanted her friend to understand that she believes life begins at conception and should be protected. Meanwhile her friend, who declined to be interviewed for this story, argued that abortion bans infringe on women's right to health care and bodily autonomy.
"I suspect this will be the end of our friendship," Dockett wrote in a Twitter thread recapping the conversation. "Heartbroken BUT it took me forever to find my voice & I will not be silenced even if that means losing every friend I have/had."
Dockett's story echoes a similar cry across social media as the post-Roe era continues to takes shape. With "trigger bans" now in effect in 13 states and organizers mobilizing on both sides of the abortion debate, friends are inevitably wading into the conversation - and some are learning that they don't see eye to eye on the issue.
"The fact that abortion is so much in the news right now kind of forces people to think about it," said Julie Chor, associate professor of obstetrics and gynecology at the University of Chicago. "So I do think that more of these discussions are happening in the public setting."
Like Dockett, many people are reporting how those conversations went. For some, it has deepened their bond as they confide in each other about their own experiences. For others, it's creating new rifts as they contemplate whether their friendship has what it takes to withstand their opposing views.
For instance, one user on Twitter recently considered how to part ways with a friend of more than 20 years. "He's pro-life, I'm pro-choice and since the Roe v. Wade decision I've been unable to even talk to them," they wrote. "I just want to vomit."
It didn't come to that for Dockett and her friend, she said. A day or two after their exchange, they returned to their usual banter. "She kind of like moved on, and it was much lighter conversation," Dockett said. "We're not going to continue talking about it because we both said what we needed to say."
Last year, the Survey Center on American Life, a project of the think tank American Enterprise Institute, found that 45% of Americans discuss politics with their friends at least a few times a month. And although political disagreements are common, the study found that 15% of people said they ended a friendship over politics.
"While friendships can buckle under these differences, friendships can also truly spur changes," said Marisa G. Franco, a psychologist, author and friendship expert. "And that's because we care about people. We see how it's affecting them. We humanize the issue."
Others on Twitter shared similar sentiments. "Personally I'm not a fan of abortion," one person tweeted, "but if my best friend needs me to hold her hand when she gets one. I will be there to hold it."
In states that have enacted abortion bans, the American Psychological Association notes that some people might feel more compelled to disclose an unplanned pregnancy to loved ones to solicit help in securing access to an abortion. But such legislation could also inhibit these discussions.
"The people who are now in this crossroad and don't know where to turn to in terms of care are feeling a lot of fear around who can they talk to," said reproductive psychologist Julie Bindeman, citing Texas's ban, which empowers private citizens to bring suit against providers or anyone who "aids or abets" an abortion. "So it doesn't create spaces where talking to people about abortion care or health care choices feel safe."
For a long time, Rachel Stevens had hoped her best friend would reconsider her stance against abortion. Eight years ago, when Stevens sought to terminate a pregnancy, her friend said she would never speak to her again.
That threat didn't hold up, said Stevens, now 35. But something shifted in their friendship for good after the Supreme Court ruling.
"With Roe being overturned, I tried to speak with her about it as she has three young daughters herself, and this will most definitely impact their future," said Stevens, a server in Nashville. "And I think it's something that she should be concerned about and aware of."
But her attempts to talk about the issue fell on deaf ears, she said: Her friend showed little interest in engaging in the conversation. "It really sealed the deal in walking away from that friendship once and for all," Stevens said.
When it comes to fraught topics like abortion, it's not just opposing views that can drive a wedge between friendships.
Lately, Mela Horr, a Houston-based college student, has been feeling particularly isolated from their friend group. One late night in June, they unpacked those feelings in a short Twitter thread. "It's that time of year again where I realize my friends will never actually be able to understand my gender identity," the tweet began.
As a nonbinary person, Horr, 23, said it's been challenging to talk to their friends, a group of mostly cisgender heterosexual men, about abortion and how new restrictions could disproportionately affect the transgender community.
"At the end of the day, because it doesn't directly affect them, it's not something that they're ever going to fully understand the full ramifications of," they said.
For Horr, like many others, the coronavirus pandemic uprooted their social life. Classes went online and the communities they had previously found solace in - a group of local Filipino artists and a queer organization on campus - fell away.
"I felt very strongly rooted in where I was," Horr said of their life before covid. "And I was still trying to discover who I was, but at least I kind of felt like the people I was around kind of reflected parts of me."
Renée Mannino, 23, found that support years ago at New York City's Pride Parade, where she sparked a friendship with Emma Beckerman back when the pair were still in high school. They traveled to the city with a group of mutual friends, Mannino said, "and we clicked so well that that same night we had a sleepover."
Years later, after Mannino had an abortion, Beckerman was one of the first people she told. "It was so nice because she had, like, no reaction," said Mannino, who works as a nanny in Flemington, N.J. "She was just very comforting when I told her ... it was just a regular conversation."
Among the abortion stories that have flooded social media in recent months, Mannino said she's noticing a dominant narrative: decisions to terminate a pregnancy due to health risks, traumatic experiences or to escape a toxic or abusive relationship.
But Mannino has seen fewer stories that reflect her reason for getting an abortion three years ago: "I do not want to bear kids," she said. "I don't want to carry a child."
Then, after Roe was overturned, Beckerman reached out with the reassurance Mannino needed. Not wanting to be a mom is enough of a reason to get an abortion, Beckerman texted her: "You don't need to go thru [something] traumatic to deserve the right to choose."
"You're such a great friend," Mannino texted back.
Beckerman, 22, said she had been thinking about how Mannino might be feeling in the aftermath of Roe.
"I bet that I know more women [who have had an abortion], but Renée is the only person who has opened up to me about that experience," she said. "It just felt like something that was appropriate to say and that I would want someone to say to me."
Few studies examine the private conversations people have about abortion decisions with their loved ones. But a small study published in 2019 offers some insight.
"What we found was that most people did talk to a friend or family member or a partner," said Chor, the University of Chicago professor and one of the authors of the study. "And most people described having some positive experiences in those discussions."
Experts echo the importance of such conversations - and have some tips on how to navigate them.
"It is not a space to insert your own opinion," Bindeman, the reproductive psychologist, said. "It is not a space for your values to come out, even if your values are supporting what your friend did."
Center the conversation on the storyteller - not the listener, she added.
For Dockett, talking through her views with her friend made one thing clear: "[We] both value our friendship and love for one another more than our political or moral values."
That's a realization she thinks others can discover through these conversations.
"It is absolutely possible to have differences in various areas of your life and maintain a friendship," she said. "It truly depends on your love for the person, their love for you, and the ability to accept that you don't have to think alike to genuinely love and care about each other."
Related Content
Police accused her of making up her rape, then destroyed the evidence
How Joe Manchin's change of heart could revive the U.S. solar industry
