Tuesday, August 5, 2025

The Hidden Lies of Birth Control

 From The Feminist Turned Housewife:

I entered womanhood in a world where birth control was already a given, a cultural inheritance passed down. It was never presented as an option, but as the default state of the modern, responsible woman. Doctors spoke of it with clinical confidence, as though prescribing hormonal suppression was no different than treating seasonal allergies. It’s just the thing everyone does. Teachers, if they mentioned it at all, spoke of it as a wise safeguard, a mark of prudence for anyone who did not wish to derail her life. Friends spoke of it casually, a normal accessory to adolescence. I do not recall a single serious voice questioning whether altering the most fundamental rhythm of a woman’s body might have consequences beyond the obvious. And I, never thought about it either.

All that we knew as young girls, was that the worst thing that could ever happen to us, was becoming pregnant, and so our bodies and nature were treated as something that needed to be treated. After all, we were all made to be independent women, and independent strong women do not have children young, and they most certainly don’t abstain from the new found freedom of sexual liberation.

We were told that the pill, and all things like it, the injections, implants, and hormonal devices, were great, a major step in the road that is becoming a woman. By severing sex from its biological design, it would give us mastery, command and freedom over our lives. We could choose if and when to become mothers; we could direct the course of our futures without fear of biology intruding. This was a medical marvel, a hard-won right, a leap forward for equality. Few of us, if any, could ever imagine what this would actually do to us as women, and to our lives.

Birth control promised control, but what it actually delivered was a subtle, creeping estrangement agaisnt my own body. The ovulatory cycle, with its fluctuations of estrogen and progesterone, its peaks of fertility, its quiet luteal declines, was replaced with a flat hormonal landscape manufactured in a lab. I thought I was simply becoming more “stable,” more even-tempered. The hormonal suppression did not merely turn off ovulation; it dimmed my connection to myself. It turned off a very important part of what it means to be a woman. (Read more.)

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