Aodhán Ó Ríordáin (Labour) | Oireachtas source

I am an Irishman, the son of a woman who was forced to leave the Civil Service when she got married, a grandson of women who were born with no right to vote, and the brother of a woman who was born in the year the eighth amendment was passed when, as Ms Emily O'Reilly put it, the "Masterminds of the Right" got their way. It was the year Ms Sheila Hodgers died, having been denied treatment for her cancer while she was pregnant.

I am an Irishman. I live in a city dotted with physical reminders of Magdalen laundries, in a country with deep secrets of baby plots, mother and baby homes, sexual abuse and violence, where older women bear the mental and physical scars of churching and symphysiotomy.

I am an Irishman. Television images of my childhood were of violence, emigration, unemployment and occasionally of women who should not be believed. It was not that simple in the land of the whispering corners. It was really the fault of Ms Joanne Hayes, Ann Lovett and Ms Annie Murphy. It was really the fault of the girl in the X case and the law was there to prove it.

I am an Irishman. I stand in a Parliament, still overwhelmingly male, led by a Government which is overwhelmingly male and reported on by a media that is overwhelmingly male, who say there are two extremes to this debate on the eighth amendment. There are not two extremes to this debate,. There is only one, and that is the extreme that demands of all women in every circumstance to be forced always to take a certain course of action. The other side, my side, does not demand that of any women.

I stand in a Parliament dominated by parties who speak of republicanism, who glorify post colonial victimhood, but who cannot genuinely appreciate that by ourselves alone we have perpetuated this injustice in contradiction of the human rights norm of every western democracy.

I am an Irishman. I will never be told by a doctor, nurse, or a medical professional that protecting my life or my health is constitutionally complex or legally uncertain. I will never have to employ legal representation from a hospital bed and no one will ever equate my life or health to the unborn because I am an Irishman.

I know that fundamentally this debate centres on a distrust of women, but I cannot fathom the intense loneliness and abandonment that thousands of women have felt over the years as they wait at airport departure gates or ferry terminals to travel abroad to terminate their pregnancies. Many have remained silent because of the whispering corners.

I am an Irishman, so I struggle to imagine the anguish and torture in a young woman's mind as she handles an abortion pill she ordered online as she sits alone in her room, consumed with the reality that she cannot tell anyone, not a friend, a doctor, not even a soulmate. These women are of Ireland, as much as our music, sport and dance. They are to be trusted to be empowered. The Constitution must protect them in every single way as much as it protects Irishmen.

In recent years, I have heard these names haunt the corridors of this building: Ms Savita Halappanavar, Ms Louise O'Keeffe, Ms Máiría Cahill, Ms A, Ms B, Ms C, Ms D, Ms Y, Ms Amanda Mellet and Ms Siobhan Whelan.

I am an Irishman and there is much to be ashamed of and much to be proud of, because I did not always subscribe to this point of view. It has been the inspirational women in my life and in my party, the Labour Party, who have helped to bring me to this compassionate position. They have reminded me that there were always voices who would not be silenced - from Ms Evelyn Owens to Máirín de Burca, Mary Robinson to Senator Ivana Bacik, women who stood for and stand for a different Ireland.

I am an Irishman, and I stand in awe of the mná who will not be silenced anymore. They speak through the National Women's Council, Terminations for Medical Reasons, Amnesty International, and through repeal groups in every corner of this country. Individuals, such as Ms Tara Flynn and Róisín Ingle, have placed themselves at the centre of a whirlwind of abuse because they are not going to take it anymore. Women contact politicians such as me in confidence about their stories.

I am an Irishman and I want a Constitution that liberates, not imprisons; a society that inspires compassion, not blame; and a State that lives up to the republican gospel of the Proclamation that speaks to Irish men and Irish women and puts to rest finally this dangerous and oppressive amendment.