Anti-birth control fear campaigns are scaring women away from contraceptives instead of fixing the real problem: our broken healthcare system.

This essay is part of an ongoing Gender & Democracy series, presented in partnership with Groundswell Fund and Groundswell Action Fund, highlighting the work of Groundswell partners advancing inclusive democracy. You’ll find stories, reflections and accomplishments—told in their own words—by grassroots leaders, women of color, Indigenous women, and trans and gender-expansive people supported by Groundswell. By amplifying these voices—their solutions, communities, challenges and victories—our shared goal is to show how intersectional organizing strengthens democracy.

As politicians pursue relentless attacks on access to reproductive healthcare—in particular, abortion medication mifepristone—the conservative media machine is inundating young women with a deluge of disinformation about birth control.

From pop culture to lifestyle brands to (pseudo) science, a growing pronatalist movement, which includes MAHA influencers and so-called tradwives, are pushing birth control “detoxes” and promoting ovulation as an experience that women must “feel.”

I am someone who survived a stroke in my 30s, most likely caused by the hormonal contraceptive injection Depo Provera. And yet, I remain a steadfast advocate for birth control. 

My unwavering support for birth control is based on the belief that all of us must have full agency over our reproductive lives—and that begins with accurate, evidence-based information so that we can make the best decisions for our own bodies. It requires access to a full array of reproductive healthcare, from puberty to post-menopause. 

If I had had access to patient-centered reproductive healthcare, I would have been diagnosed with fibroids before they grew into a melon-sized tumor.

I don’t blame Depo Provera for the pain I endured, nor do I think that contraceptives pose a distinct danger or harm. I place the blame where the blame is due: the lack of access to comprehensive sex education in our schools, the lack of universal insurance that covers reproductive healthcare, and the lack of scientific research and medical training that centers health, dignity and wellbeing.  

Less than 3 percent of women who use contraceptives take the Depo Provera shot, and it has the highest drop-off rate among all contraceptives used in the country. That’s probably because the side effects include erratic periods, depression, and, according to an FDA warning, significant bone density loss for anyone who uses it for longer than two years.

I had a single shot of Depo Provera, and the side effects hit me so hard that I could barely function. I went straight to bed after work for several months (where I read the entire five-book series of Game of Thrones—bonus!). 

But if I had had access to patient-centered reproductive healthcare, I would have been diagnosed with fibroids before they grew into a melon-sized tumor. I would have been given all the information I needed to make an informed choice. I would have been treated with dignity and given full agency by my provider. 

Instead, as an uninsured freelancer before the Affordable Care Act lowered premiums for reproductive-age women, I had to seek care at a community clinic, where the doctor rushed me into taking the birth control shot while I was still under anesthesia from a dilation and curettage (D&C) procedure that meant to scrape the fibroids out of my uterus, all because I couldn’t afford proper care.

The year that followed is still a blur of emergency room visits, medical gaslighting, long hospital stays, two angiograms, acute therapy and a full hysterectomy. Ten years later, I’m mostly recovered and trying my best to navigate our malignant healthcare system, but it kills me to see the orchestrated offensive against sexual and reproductive healthcare aimed at young women. 

A younger colleague introduced me to Evie, whose founder is selling a birth control “detox,” a period tracking app funded by dark money donor Peter Thiel, and a wearable AI ring that tracks every aspect of your cycle. Combining tradwife vibes with a Free People catalogue aesthetic, Evie’s subtle and not-so subtle content encourages young women to “break up with birth control,” stay home and erase themselves from the public sphere.

A couple of months ago, Rolling Stone featured Lorde on its cover to promote her new album. The 28-year-old pop star said she decided to stop taking birth control for the first time since she was 15. “I’ve now come to see [my decision] as maybe some quasi right-wing programming. But I hadn’t ovulated in 10 years. And when I ovulated for the first time, I cannot describe to you how crazy it was. One of the best drugs I’ve ever done.” 

Meanwhile, the Trump administration and the Make America Healthy Again (MAHA) movement, led by HHS Secretary RFK Jr., has launched a plan to reallocate Title X funds for contraceptives to “infertility training centers” that push “restorative reproductive medicine” and place the blame for the declining birthrate squarely on women.

None of this surprises me. Instead of denouncing the systemic failures that keep all of us from being well-informed about our health and finding suitable care, the blame falls on women and girls. 

Case in point, the Republican attorneys general of Missouri, Kansas and Idaho—recently joined by Florida and Texas—are suing the federal government to restrict access to mifepristone, which is used in combination with misoprostol to terminate an early pregnancy, arguing that the abortion medication has lowered “birth rates for teenaged mothers” and is contributing to a population loss in their states, leading to a loss of political representation and federal funds. You read that right: They want more teen pregnancies. It would be laughable if it weren’t so dangerous. 

So where does that leave us? We must continue to fight all of these insidious tentacles as we work to ensure that women and gender non-conforming people of all races, ages, backgrounds and abilities can continue to tear down the systemic barriers that try to keep us from thriving and taking our rightful place in every arena.