What would a woman feel, watching this movie, if she has already had an abortion?

That was the one question on my mind when my husband and I saw Unplanned. It was the first time we ever paid to see an R-rated movie in theaters. But based on feedback from trusted friends, we believed the MPAA rating was... off.

Still, the question persisted:

What would a woman feel, watching this movie, if she’s already had an abortion?

The R-rating was due to “graphic and disturbing images”—a quiet admission that dismembering a fetus with a vacuum is, in fact, disturbing. And yet, in many places across the country, a minor can get an abortion without parental consent... but can’t watch a movie about one without it.

So who was this movie really made for?
Was it just for pro-lifers?
Who else would even want to see it?

That’s what I wanted to know.

I wanted to see it through the eyes of the woman who once faced her own crisis pregnancy—scared, overwhelmed, maybe even pressured—and made the choice to abort. Why would she want to watch an anti-abortion movie? Wouldn’t it just trigger trauma, amplify guilt, or re-open old wounds?

Why would anyone voluntarily walk into that?

I needed to know if I could recommend this film to those women.

I’d read reviews claiming the movie was ultimately about love and redemption, but none of the trailers made that message clear. The previews leaned heavily into the shock factor—grief, fear, horror. And honestly, I braced myself for more of the same.

But like many films, the trailers didn’t do it justice.

Spoiler alert? Maybe. But this movie’s power doesn’t rely on surprises. What I’ll share isn’t about twists—it’s about what the trailers don’t reveal.

Yes, there are disturbing scenes early on. You watch a woman go through a vacuum aspiration abortion—narrated—and later, a chemically induced abortion via pill. These scenes are tough, especially because they’re portrayed through her eyes. But they don’t dominate the movie.

The rest of the film follows her journey—how she deals with those memories.

At first, she buries them. She throws herself into her work, genuinely believing she’s helping women in crisis. Her passion is real. Her heart is in it. She dedicates her life to what she thinks is compassion and care.

But then... (cue trailer moment)...

Everything unravels. She begins to feel the full weight of her decisions—her own abortions, and her leadership role in an organization that withheld truths from vulnerable women. Women who weren’t fully informed of what was being done, or what options they had.

And here’s where the film shines.

You feel her unraveling. You walk through her grief, her remorse, her reckoning. And somehow, incredibly, you also witness her redemption. Her memories don’t vanish—there’s still sadness—but they’re no longer laced with shame and horror. She becomes free. Forgiven. Restored.

I wouldn’t have believed it if someone had told me beforehand—that a movie could make me feel that transformation. That it could portray such healing on screen in a way that feels real. But it did.

I am convinced that this movie speaks truth. It illustrates how God can reach and restore a person, no matter how dark, fallen, or lost that person may feel.

It showed me that no matter how far someone has fallen or how heavy the burden may be, there is a way back. And not just back, but forward—with purpose, peace, and joy.

This woman was complicit in over 20,000 abortions. She came to feel the full weight of that reality—and still, she was lifted. You’ll feel it with her.

So, if you—or someone you love—has experienced an abortion or been part of one, and you’re searching for a way to see and feel it differently... this movie may be exactly what you need.

I’m now convinced:
These women are exactly who the movie was made for.

Feel it all—even the darkest parts—because it’s through that sorrow that the joy, the awe, and the relief become not only possible… but real.

#unplanned #lawofpolarity #rarefaith

Learn more here -> https://www.unplannedfilm.com/