Abortion in Poland: A restrictive Landscape.

Abortion rights through the perspective of a young Polish woman living abroad

By Zofia Rzeznik

It was 2020 and it was the pandemic. I spent a lot more time at home and, because my dad cannot go for an hour without the news, the TV was always on.

I stumbled upon the topic of abortion.

It was 2020 and the rights of Polish women and pregnant people were being constantly debated.

I was 16 years old when I found out that decisions about my body could be made by other people.

I was 16 years old when I found out that a Polish woman’s body was not her own.

The fate of my body is decided upon by strangers, mostly men. Men who have no idea of my circumstances.

Why is my body hyper-surveilled and at the same time completely neglected?

And why am I in a privileged situation just because I had the opportunity to move abroad, access resources in a medical setting, free of stigma and shame?

I was 16 when I understood that my fundamental rights were up for debate. And even now, years later, I keep returning to the same question:

Why do we have to fight for something that should be a fundamental right?

Justyna Wydrzyńska: A Trial That Should Not Exist

Justyna Wydrzynska was convicted for helping another woman access abortion medication. Her case is a stark reminder of the hostility faced by those who support reproductive rights in Poland. Can you imagine being punished for helping someone escape a nightmare?

In 2023, Justyna was sentenced for “aiding an abortion” after providing abortion pills to a woman trapped in an abusive relationship. Before that, the woman had attempted to seek a medical abortion at a clinic outside of Poland, but her abusive husband intervened, preventing her from leaving and even involving the police to stop her from accessing care.

Justyna’s act of kindness and support was treated as a crime by the government. Now, her retrial is set for 2025.

A woman, desperate and afraid, turned to Justyna for help. Instead of finding support from the system, she found a wall of indifference and cruelty. And Justyna, who extended her hand, was thrown into the fire instead.

The Landscape That Criminalised Justyna’s Actions

For as long as I can remember Poland’s abortion laws have always been restrictive, but in 2020, the Constitutional Tribunal pushed them even further. Abortion due to fetal abnormalities—one of the most common reasons for seeking the procedure—was deemed unconstitutional. Overnight, an already limited right became almost nonexistent.

This ruling banned over 90 percent of legal abortions, leaving thousands of women with no safe options. Even in cases where abortion is still technically allowed—such as when the pregnancy threatens the woman’s life— doctors often refuse out of fear, religious beliefs, or institutional pressure.

Women face delays, judgment, and systemic neglect, forcing them to seek abortions abroad or through underground networks.

Imagine the desperation, the isolation. The unbearable pain of being abandoned by your own country.

Justyna Wydrzyńska stepped in where the system failed. She gave help when the government would not. And for that, she was prosecuted.

The Personal and the Political: A Tale of Two Worlds

For many Polish women, the struggle for abortion access is not an abstract political debate—it is a matter of life and death. For many females, like me, living abroad offers a strikingly different image of reproductive rights – seen as healthcare and wellbeing, not a crime or shame. Here, I am not ashamed for believing my body belongs to me. Here, I can make choices about my future without fear of criminalisation.

But that contrast makes the injustice back home even harder to bear.

The Polish government – heavily influenced, almost inspired, by the catholic church – has pushed its anti-abortion policies for years despite protests and voices coming in internationally.

In Poland, outside of the urban areas (towns and villages), the setting is very parochial, people know everything about everyone. My parents who grew up in a smaller city experienced that, and even now I experience the scale of this stigma and judgement – a feeling I could almost refer to as suffocation. Even now, when I return, I sense the scrutiny, the whispered opinions about women who dare to defy traditional expectations.

The fear, the shame, the silence—it suffocates us before we can even speak.

Why Do We Still Have to Fight for This?

It is 2025, and Polish women are still fighting for their rights. We are still asking:

Why is my body hyper-surveilled and yet completely neglected?

Why do I have to be privileged enough to be able leave my home country to access safe reproductive care? Why is a woman helping another woman treated as a criminal?

These are questions that should not have to be asked. And yet, in Poland, they remain unanswered.

The retrial of Justyna Wydrzyńska offers a glimmer of hope, but it is not enough. True justice will only come when no woman has to fight for the right to control her own body. When abortion is no longer criminalised. When reproductive rights are no longer dictated by the beliefs of a few, but by the autonomy of the individual.

Until then, we will keep fighting. We keep speaking. Because silence is complicity. Because this should never have been a debate in the first place.