Christina Applegate reveals in new memoir that liberals do know what abortion is

There is a line in Christina Applegate's new memoir that is almost impossible to read without stopping.

Not because it is controversial.

Because it is honest.

At 19 years old, pregnant, in a broken situation, and preparing to terminate her unborn child's life, she wrote words that cut through nearly every modern talking point about abortion:

I love this being… I always felt that if I ever got pregnant when I knew it was the wrong time, I wouldn't have any problem having an abortion. ‘Oh, whatever. It isn't even a baby yet.' That's bulls--t. This creature's incredible — makes me feel whole, safe.

That's not rhetoric.

That's recognition.

And it only gets heavier.

I'm f---ing pregnant, and I'm killing my child on Thursday. I'm thinking, ‘Where the f--- can I go to recuperate from murder?'

There is no euphemism there. She calls it what it is.

And then, in a moment that is almost unbearable to read, she writes to the child she is about to lose:

Hello, little thing. I feel you every moment of my day. Such a tiny existence. Such an immense effect you have. You are a miracle. A tiny handed miracle. I love you, but you know your fate. It's not your time. I know you didn't make that decision, but it can't be your time. You will live on, though. You will live through another. I hope you will forgive me… But mommy can't be with you right now. But know she loves you — more than any other miracle.

There is no confusion here.

Only conflict.

Because what you are seeing in those words is not ignorance. It is not a lack of information. It is not someone who has been successfully convinced that this is "just a clump of cells." It is someone who knows what the child is, understands what is about to happen, and recognizes, at some level, what it all means. And she still chooses it.

That is what makes this so unsettling. Not because it is incomprehensible behavior, but because it is profoundly human.

Scripture tells us that this is exactly how sin works. In Romans 1:18, Paul writes that humanity "suppresses the truth in unrighteousness," not because we fail to discover the truth, but because we actively press it down. We bury it beneath justification, rationalize it to make it more palatable, and talk around it in ways that dull its edge. But it's still there.

As Paul goes on to say in Romans 2:15, the law of God is, "written on their hearts, while their conscience also bears witness."

That is precisely what you are hearing in Applegate's words: a conscience that has not been fully silenced, and a recognition that, despite every attempt to suppress it, has not been erased.

We prefer to believe that if people only had a little more education, clarity, or a better understanding, they would inevitably choose right over wrong. But the Bible offers a far more sobering diagnosis.

It tells us that the problem isn't what we know, it's what we choose.

There are competing desires within us: what we know to be right, and what we want in the moment. And when those collide, we are capable of choosing ourselves even while our conscience testifies against us.

Certainly we are not all identical in choices or circumstances, but we all experience the same underlying condition: a heart that can recognize truth and still resist it.

Applegate's words are striking not because they are polished, but because they are honest. They reveal something most of us spend our lives trying to avoid - the fact that deep down we often know more than we are willing to admit, and that knowledge alone does not necessarily restrain us.

Which is why Scripture ultimately calls us to something more than information. It calls us to repentance. Because the problem is not simply that we need to see clearly, but that we need to be changed.

And that is why, even in a story like this, there is still hope.

Because the same honesty that led her to write those words (the willingness to name what happened without hiding behind softer language) may also be the very place where God begins His work. Scripture tells us that "godly sorrow produces repentance that leads to salvation" (2 Corinthians 7:10), and it is often through moments of clarity, not confusion, that the door to grace is opened.

As Christina Applegate now faces the weight of her chronic illness (multiple sclerosis) and the reality that life is not endless, my prayer is that her honesty would not stop at admission, but lead all the way to repentance and surrender. That the truth she once acknowledged would not remain buried, but would draw her to the One who alone can forgive, restore, and make new.

Because no matter how deep the sin, the mercy of Christ goes deeper still.

And if that mercy is received, then even a story marked by loss like this need not end in separation, but in a redemption so complete that what was once taken in sin may yet be met again in grace.

Disclaimer: The opinions expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the opinions of Not the Bee or any of its affiliates.