WHEN I was 15 and studying religion, or my “GCSE in guilt” as I now like to think of it, we were given a special task to complete in class one day.

I remember feeling very grown-up because we had finally reached the age where the teacher acknowledged the existence of sex, and therefore it was time to warn us all of the horrors it can produce.

We were told to imagine a scenario where our best friend was pregnant and wanted to have a termination.

Each girl was given a sheet of paper and instructed to write a letter to their friend, listing the reasons why she shouldn’t do it, including but not limited to all of the sin and guilt that awaited if she did.

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At the time I simply did what was asked of me with little trouble, because I agreed with the teacher that abortion was a sin and there were no options and so I got to work effectively, trying to guilt the imaginary girl into motherhood for a good grade.

It was only the following year, as I watched a friend hiding in the toilets, crying and terrified because she was three months gone and hadn’t told anyone, that I started to wonder about the letter and how insensitive it would be at that moment.

I realise now that we had........

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