I am Luisa, 28 years old, politically active and an activist. Otherwise, I do mostly art. I have good memories of my early childhood. But when I was about 7 years old, my father started abusing me.
He started small and became gradually more severe. I did not know that parents are not allowed to do everything with their children. It was all justified by some Bible paragraph or something. I always knew I didn't feel good about it. But I also felt guilty saying that my parents weren't okay.
When I was 15, I became pregnant - by my father. My first thoughts were, "I'm going to die." That was the first thought. I'm going to die. And the baby, too. Everybody was going to die. My parents couldn't know about this for the death of me. My father would have literally killed me. No one could know about the pregnancy.
On the one hand, I was in a family that had a secret that they wanted to very much keep that way. And then there was also the environment in which I was mostly around - community, church and so on. And there I was allowed to have a lot of contact especially with people who supported this image of no sex before marriage.
And to say that I was pregnant would have meant either that everyone would know it was my father - that's not possible - or that I had sex with someone else - and that wasn't possible either. It just wasn’t allowed to be. I told as few people as possible about the pregnancy. One of them I knew, she had already been through everything. For her, there wasn't much new. And then I tried to sort it out somehow.
Everything that was somehow billed through the insurance company wasn’t an option. Because I was insured through my father, who regularly got the bill. And if there was anything on it that wasn't supposed to be there or that somehow wasn't known beforehand, then he kept asking - and insistently - until I gave an answer.
Legal abortion was simply not an option. No one was allowed to know about the pregnancy. And I could not have concealed it. So my only option was an illegal abortion. In a big city you can get almost anything if you want to. Especially in the schoolyard you always meet someone for something. There's the drug corner, then there are those who stand in the smokers' corner and feel great. There are those who play soccer - for whatever reason - and then there are a few students who always somehow know something.
These are people who, if I went to one of them and said, "I need four refrigerators for a party tomorrow," would know who to ask and where. And that person would deliver them by tonight. And that's who I approached.
I was maybe 14 or 15 weeks pregnant, I don’t know exactly. But my child was already kicking. I went there with that guy. It was in a high-rise housing estate where you had to go a few stops out of town by subway. We went around what felt like 50 corners. And then we went into one of those high-risers building. Colleagues of his lived there.
The apartment looked like a normal apartment, only the kitchen table was covered with a tarp. And the rest I can't really remember. They gave me a lot of drugs so that it wouldn't hurt so much and so that I wouldn't notice anything.
They put me on the couch to sleep. I must have been there for 48 hours. And then I stayed with a friend for a few days. Officially, I was on a youth retreat and told my family I’ll be gone. Afterwards I had looked at all the photos on social-media so that I could talk about something.
Everything was sterile. But I had a wound and that had to heal first. It took a few years until everything was back to normal. For the first few months I was just sick in bed as if I had a fever - I really did have a fever.
My parents accepted it as a fact. "You have a fever. You've probably caught the flu. Just be more careful next time." I had learned the previous 9 years that pain is not a reason not to function. That doesn't mean that I'm fine, but that I can at least keep up the appearance of nothing going on.
I consider my child as stillborn, it was born dead. I did not want to get rid of the child if it had had another possibility. But I simply did not have this option. One way out would have been for my father to die. I would have preferred to just be beamed into another dimension without him.
But there were no real possibilities. And that's why I'm grateful for those who were there and helped.