I was well into my forties before I accepted the obvious: grief isn’t political. Being sad that something happened isn’t the same as admitting that it shouldn’t have happened. Sadness is not evidence of error; tears are not proof of regret. I can be pro-choice, which I am to my very core, and still weep for what wasn’t. My sentimentality is not a reason to deny a woman agency over her body; her agency doesn’t need my sentimentality to disappear in order for it to be valid.