Four months ago, I found myself sitting in the waiting room at Planned Parenthood, texting my friends, scrolling on Reddit, desperately trying to find someone else to make a decision that would affect the next few years of my life for me.
“Should I get the implant?” I texted my best friend, who recommended “the shot” instead, and my boyfriend, who never responded.
For any confused readers, the use of the terms “the implant” and “the shot” refer to hormonal birth control methods, which are often called by the most simplistic description of what they are or how they’re administered.
Other hormonal birth control methods that follow the same common naming convention include: “the pill,” “the ring,” “the patch” and “the sponge.”
The implant, also known as Nexplanon, is a thin rod that is inserted under the skin of the upper arm and lasts 3-5 years. It is the most effective form of reversible birth control; yes, even more effective than getting your tubes tied.
Before finally deciding to get the implant, I had been on and off the pill since I was 16.
My inconsistency with the pill was not due to any side effects. Instead, for someone as forgetful and habit-resistant as myself, the real challenge lay in having to take a pill at the same time every day and then remember to refill the prescription on time after three months.
I would forget, or procrastinate, until before I knew it, an entire cycle passed and my period would start again.
But I never changed contraceptive methods, as I knew how lucky I was that the first pill my doctor prescribed me at 16 was basically perfect.
I never had any noticeable negative side effects. When I was on the pill, my skin was clearer, my periods lighter and I didn’t want to kill myself the week before my period started. In fact, I noticed an overall mood-stabilizing effect.
So, even though I’m exceptionally bad at taking the pill, to the point that sometimes I would go multiple days in a row having to take two at a time, I stuck with it.
I had been tempted by longer-term birth control alternatives to the pill for a while, but never had the nerve to actually make the switch. That is, until I came across an Instagram reel claiming the implant was 300x more effective at preventing pregnancy than condoms.
Did I fact-check it? No. Did I make a telehealth appointment with Student Health Services for the next day? Yes.
That’s not to say I didn’t do any research — I did. I spent the whole night before scrolling through r/nexplanon, reading through negative experience after negative experience with the occasional positive or neutral experience sprinkled in.
I knew to take those reviews with a grain of salt. Research has shown that people are more likely to share negative experiences online than positive ones, according to a June 13, 2018 New York Times article.
I’ve noticed that the content I am recommended online related to hormonal birth control is overwhelmingly negative, with videos like the one mentioned earlier being in the minority.
I’ve seen many videos of women sharing their experiences going off of birth control for the first time since they were teenagers and expressing their regret for starting it so young, often directing their anger at their prescribers. I’ve also seen many videos or posts spreading misleading —if not outright false— information about contraceptives.
This isn’t just my experience, as a 2025 study of contraceptive information on TikTok found that over half of all videos shared on the topic explicitly rejected hormonal birth control, often in favor of so-called “natural” birth control methods like fertility awareness or cycle tracking.
The same study found that the overall quality and reliability of the information in those TikToks was poor, with only 10% being shared by medical professionals.
At a time when women’s rights and bodily autonomy are under attack, I can’t help but find the increasing demonization of contraceptive medications deeply sinister.
Like any other strains of anti-medicine or anti-science schools of thought, these claims are often built upon an underlying distrust of the medical establishment, which in many cases is not unjustified.
This is especially common when it comes to arguments around birth control, which often rely on the fact that women’s health issues are often dismissed on an individual level and under-studied on a population level.
While that might be true in many cases, the safety of hormonal contraceptives has been backed by decades and decades of research, and continues to be the subject of ongoing research.
While I can’t go into every misconception surrounding contraceptives in this column, I wanted to take the time to dispel and address some of the most concerning ones I’ve seen recently.
Most of these misconceptions involve misattributing things like weight gain, acne, or mood changes as side effects of birth control, or distorting the risk of rare side effects. The shot is the only birth control method consistently associated with weight gain, as well as an increased risk of depression.
One scarily common belief is the claim that women on birth control are attracted to more feminine men than those who are not. This myth was originally supported by some small methodologically-questionable studies, but has since been rebuked by more recent, robust studies finding no difference.
You might have seen posts on social media claiming birth control causes breast cancer, citing a recent study published in the Journal of the American Medical Association Oncology on Oct. 30, 2025.
The researchers found a small, short-term increase in breast cancer detection rates among young women associated with some forms of hormonal oral contraceptives. While the results of the study should be taken seriously, much of it has been taken out of context in favor of fear-mongering.
Oral contraceptives have also been associated with a slightly increased risk for cervical cancer, but this can be mitigated through prevention methods like receiving the HPV vaccine and recommended screenings.
What influencers won’t tell you about the link between birth control and cancer, however, is that hormonal contraceptives can prevent certain kinds of cancers. Hormonal birth control use lowers the risk of endometrial cancer by 30%, ovarian cancer by 30-50%, and colorectal cancer by 15-20%.
My aim with this column is not to downplay the risks or side effects associated with birth control or to dismiss anyone’s experiences, but instead to serve as a reminder of the wider context framing these discussions.
My own personal experience with hormonal contraceptives has been overwhelmingly positive. I haven’t experienced any side effects after four months with the implant in.
While I have mentioned its efficacy and convenience as factors in my decision to get the implant, I would be remiss to pretend that’s the whole story: I’m afraid of what’s to come. My fears of losing access to birth control motivated me to seek out a long-term contraceptive while I still could.
The solutions health and wellness influencers are pushing are not to increase funding for women’s health research or improve sex education or widen abortion access or anything constructive.
Whether intentionally or not, these creators are part of a larger right-wing movement that doesn’t care about your or any other women’s health, they just want to control it.
Don’t feed into their narrative: fight it.
