I wrote this for feminist historian Elaine Tyler May's BCP project , which Courtney wrote up a few months ago here on feministing. As a longtime feministing reader but new community member, I thought I might post this here by way of an introduction - the Pill had powerful effects on my life, and I've wanted to talk about it for a long time, so I'm very grateful for this forum and the loving and supportive feministing community.
Adolesce
My body was still bucking under him when he drew his mouth away from mine and panted, “Okay, no pressure whatsoever, but at this point I either need to get up and take a walk, or get up and get a condom.”
My underwear felt humid and constricting. I rolled onto my belly and moaned into the crumpled comforter. He kissed my head and got up.
“Get the condom,” I muttered through the pillow.
“What?” he turned.
Don’t make me say it twice! I thought in ravenous, indecisive agony. “Get the condom, ” I articulated, this time more loudly.
A pause. “Are you sure?”
“No! Yes! I don’t know, just get it! ”
This, dear reader, is how I lost my virginity.
I could analyze this scene through many lenses – in fact, I would love to talk about that mythologized liminal experience, female lust, and the social and political shrouds of mystery that surround it, and how its magical, inexplicable occurrence in a fifteen-year-old body prompts the occasional lousy choice. But really, I’m here to talk about the supporting actor in this story – not the guy, the contraception.
Needless to say, he got the condom. And subsequently got another one. Though just about everything that night was a big deal – it was the first time for both of us – the fact that we were using condoms was not; it was easy, vaguely sexy, and during the subsequent weeks of many formative sexual experiences, we used condoms reliably and almost without incident.
One night, though, the latex ripped down the middle, and since this was before over-the-counter morning-after pills, we panicked. Fortunately, his father was an endocrinologist, and late that night a pack of birth control pills was delivered through my bedroom window in great secrecy, along with a complex set of instructions (four today, four tomorrow, one every day after that until the pack is gone) and warnings (nausea, spotting).
Within hours I was vomiting and gratefully pregnancy-free – my first experience with the Pill.
Alas, our prophylactically-enhanced romance was not to last, and four months (and a birthday) later, a new guy was pulling my sweater over my head while I unbuttoned his jeans. I asked about condoms, and he made a face, but dug for one in a bedside drawer.
I’ll just say that intercourse didn’t work out that day, and that he blamed it all on the condom. “I don’t really do condoms,” he whined. “My last girlfriend was on the Pill.”
Utterly uninformed about the consequences and side effects of hormonal contraception, and certainly not to be outdone by the ex-girlfriend, I took myself to the local Planned Parenthood for my first gynecological exam. Jerry Springer crackled in the waiting room, and all the women there had swollen bellies and toddlers crawling on their knees. I got my prescription, and that day I began what would be a seven-year regimen of daily hormonal birth control pills.
In retrospect, I have very few good things to say about it, except that I never got pregnant. I was plagued by bizarre mood swings and violent cramps; my libido became unpredictable; I couldn’t lubricate naturally; I gained a little weight. But the worst part was that I didn’t know the Pill was causing most of it. Sure, I sampled different Pills to deal with the cramps and monthly fevers, but problems with libido and moodiness I attributed to…what? My own twisted psyche? To me these symptoms felt like failures – as a woman, a sexual partner, a person. That guy who didn’t “do” condoms tended to agree. He turned out to be a real jerk.
The combination of the hormonal randomness of adolescence, the Pill’s ill-fitting layer of synthetic rhythm placed upon it, an emotionally abusive boyfriend, a deep need for physical intimacy, and a conservative background completely void of feminism or decent sex education made the next few years a tough time. I cried a lot. I sucked in school. I self-harmed. I was raped by a teacher, and bled during sex for two years afterward. I slept around so that someone would love my spoiled body, my polarized self.
Finally, midway through college, I dumped that guy. I went to therapy. I discovered feminism, and found a new path to healing and to learning what it really means to be a woman. I studied yoga and reconciled with my body. I dated girls. But I didn’t get off the Pill.
Why not? I suppose that, as a newly liberated woman trying to claim her sexuality, I wanted to be in charge of my own fertility, and not have to rely on some guy I didn’t know well, or some little piece of plastic. I wanted to decide when I menstruated. Ironically, I also wanted reliable physical and psychological rhythms, and I thought that’s what the Pill was giving me.
Around then I met Nathan* – rabid feminist, wise companion, tender partner, attentive friend. He accepted the randomness of my moods, my dark winter depression, my timid libido, my fears about sex; his endless, gentle love and patience guided me on a path to sexual self-healing and expansive embodied identity that I couldn’t have traveled without him. We fell in love; we became engaged.
While I continued to take the Pill, I acknowledged for the first time that I didn’t like it. Without understanding why, I was beginning to perceive physical cues that my body resisted hormonal birth control – the smell of the Pills made me ill, they unfailingly stuck in my throat when nothing else did. I also noticed that my libido ballooned during my period – the seven days a month that I was Pill-free. Nathan always insisted I choose the kind of contraception we used, since pregnancy would affect me most directly, but he closely monitored scientific progress on the “male pill” and issued periodic reports on its status and test successes.
About a year and a half ago, we were traversing February’s skeletal vineyards in Provence on an extended post-graduation Europe trek, when I lost a pack of Pills somewhere. This left me a whole month short of contraception before we could return to the States and renew my prescription. I lamented impending hormonal irregularity and the inevitable weight gain when I got back on the Pill later, but Nate just shrugged, hugged me often and bought a bunch of condoms from a street-side dispenser, because in France they, you know, have those.
Somewhere along the way I had absorbed from my ex the belief that condoms were ungainly, inferior, that they repressed sensation and made sex unromantic. I regarded the crinkly wad of shiny packets with distaste.
But you know what? They weren’t such a big deal.
Returning to the US meant crashing on couches while we searched for an apartment, sleeping on piles of coats in the new place, unpacking boxes, acquiring furniture and jobs, being uninsured. I never found the time or cash to go to the gyno for a new scrip. We bought more condoms, then found that NYC distributed them for free. We made a home together, and we had awesome, protected sex in it.
My body didn’t change all at once, but it was fast enough that I noticed it. First of all, I didn’t plunge into the midwinter depression I anticipated upon our return. After all the time we’d spent outdoors on our trip, my period synched up with the moon. I initiated sex; I got wet during foreplay; I felt unfamiliar stirrings of desire after the occasional attractive stranger. When I ovulated, it seemed guys sitting near me on the subway could sense it. Best of all, even during our exacerbating period of homelessness, joblessness, and sleeplessness, all of my feelings seemed to have discernable reasons behind them, which was new. The reasons themselves were new. I felt like a beautiful new person.
I still dislike condoms – the oily smell especially, and the sensation of a synthetic barrier between us at our closest moments. They’re not completely reliable, and they don’t put me at ease. Nathan also developed an allergy to latex, and let me tell you, polyurethane is totally inferior, plus we have to pay for them. I got acne for the first time in my life, too, and I sometimes think about going back on the Pill, just to make life simpler.
But then I realize that not only would life not be simpler, with its erratic moods and sourceless whims, but sex wouldn’t even be simpler – not without the desire for it, or the ability to lubricate naturally. And I might have to give up this new sense of self – the self with its natural biochemical origins, its own rhythms, ones that I never experienced falling into place since I masked them with the Pill before my adolescence was even complete.
I don’t feel like there’s an ideal form of contraception for me. Hormones mess me up, rubbers gross me out, and anything else requires sterilization or at least some procedure too invasive for my comfort at this stage in my sexual development. I get angry at gynecologists who push Pills on me while discrediting my experiences as "all in your head." I don’t like relying on corporations, pharmaceutical or otherwise, to manage my fertility, and I don’t like that virtually all reliable contraceptive options create environmental waste. Mostly, though, I’m thankful that condoms suffice, and that a lot of problems disappeared form my life when the Pill did.
These are just my experiences, and not meant as a general indictment of hormonal birth control. I realize that many, many women have only positive things to say about their experiences with the Pill, and I am glad that such options exist for them. Fertility management should be an inalienable right for all women, and affordable access to all methods of contraception is a part of that right. I also hope for educational environments in which women and girls can fully learn about available methods and their advantages and potential side-effects, as well as become empowered agents of their own sexuality.
* Name changed.
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I had similar experiences with the pill. I was prescribed it at 15 because I had really bad menstrual cramps. It helped with that and with pregnancy prevention, but it made me nauseous every single day. The longer I was on the pill, the more my libido diminished (although at the time I thought that was because of relationship issues). I'm officially off hormonal methods. The bad cramps are back, but so is a never-before-known sense of my body's rhythms. I know when I'm fertile. I know when my period is coming on. I get cyclical moods, but so what? They're mine. I don't want some big pharma "solution" to bad moods.
We now use a diaphragm, which is practically unheard-of. There was not a single person at the university clinic who knew how to fit one. I had to go to Planned Parenthood, who took 2 weeks to get it in. Now I can't find a place that sells the spermicide to go with it. I definitely lament the hegemony of the pill!
I too can relate to the horrible mood swings and depression caused by the pill. I went on it during the last 2 years of university and while I have always had mild problems with anxiety and feelings of depression the pill heightened everything. What finally made it click for me was when I started to have these incredibly morbid destructive thoughts that I had absolutely no control over. That was the last package I took and since then my anxiety levels have decreased exponentially. Did anyone else experience horrible leg cramps while on the pill?
I still believe in a woman's right to birth control and don't believe access to it should be limited by ideologically opposed doctors or pharmacists but I think these side effects should be discussed. My doctor only talked about the risk of blood clots and stroke, but emotional side effects are as important.
Thank you for posting this, this made me actually sit and consider the reasons for being on the pill. I think a lot of the time it's pushed on younger girls because it's used to clear up acne, but also gives the added protection against pregnancy. I went on it when I was 15, and your mentioning moods and depression and things, makes me wonder how much of my feelings are mine and how much are hormone-induced. Great piece!
Nimue - how do you find dealing with spermicide works for you? I've never used a diaphragm, but based on my experiences with spermicide-lubricated condoms (and how no matter what, it always gets in my mouth and burns off my taste buds?), I'd imagined it would be messy and a pain. Your thoughts?
ultraneon - I definitely also had the intrusive morbid thoughts, and that's where I drew the line, too (for getting therapy, though unfortunately not getting off the Pill for some time). I totally agree that information about side effects needs to be WAY more available - I didn't really learn about all the ways my body was affected by birth control until I started reading blogs and becoming part of communities like this one!
miktacular - I'm so glad. I wish my doctor, my sex educators, my parents, ANYONE had been able to tell me more about how birth control would affect my body and my psychology when I was 15. Thanks!
Thanks for posting this! I experienced the same symptoms, and was not sure if I was the only person attributing these problems to the pill. I've been off for 1 month, after being on it for about 8 years, and I can already sense a HUGE difference in my body. I appreciate the freedom that the pill gives women, but for me, the side effects were too great. I have worse cramps, but I don't feel crazy anymore and I actually have a sex drive! Good to hear others out there with the same experience.
Thank you so much for posting this. I am 19, and while I have been a feminist for a while now, I still have not completely received a good sex education. I have learned a whole lot more, and my mother and I have become a lot more open about the subject. Unfortunately, I never received a good sex education, although my mother tried, and none of my doctors were ever good at explaining things to me.
What I mean to say is: I now understand why, after being on the pill for 2 years, I no longer want to have sex. I mean, I do, but I can't get wet. I really feel excited, and I want to do it, but I can't get wet. Or when I do, I dry up way too fast for the sex to end. It's been really frustrating to me, especially since my boyfriend and I get along so very well. When we first started dating, right when I started the pill, the sex was fantastic and we both loved it. I had no problems. Then I started loosing my libido and natural lubrication. I couldn't find *any* information on this on the internet, my mom and sister knew nothing about it, and my doctor looked at me like I was crazy. I was terrified that there was something wrong with me. Because of other problems (i.e. NEVER having a period on my birth control, ever) I stopped taking my pills about 2 weeks ago. While not everything is back to normal, I'm experiencing a lot of changes already. Sure, my libido and sex life aren't the way I want them yet, but for the first time in over 3 months, I was finally in the mood to masturbate. I almost feel like crying now because I realize I'm not insane or crazy, and that the pill just isn't for me. I've suspected this for a while, with the missing periods, etc., but people kept telling me that I was over-reacting, that the pill won't do that to you.
Anyway, after rambling, I just want to thank you again so much. I was afraid to post my question relating to my missed period/libido on the community, because frankly, I was afraid people would kind of laugh at me.
THANK YOU.
I definitely can associate with your birth-control experiences, as I started at 15 and didn't even consider the odd side effects it would have on my body. I went through the mood swings and lack of libido and arousal, and of course I was horniest my week off the pill on my period! After trying several different types of birth-control, I finally decided to educate myself on BC and opted to get a hormone-free copper IUD (thanks to an awesome Planned Parenthood in my area) I was sick of hormones directing my body, and for the first time in my adult life, I feel much closer to my body and my cycle. I know when I'm ovulating and I feel so much more in control of my emotions, not to mention my sexual desire has skyrocketed!
I can admit to dealing with some cramping and pain, but I'd rather take medication only when I need it instead of every day. I still use condoms with my sexual partners, but for me, an IUD freed me from the cost (both financially and physiologially) of hormonal birth control.
Lori - First off, I think it's important to say that NO ONE HERE WOULD LAUGH AT YOU for asking questions about how your body works, or how it responds to hormonal birth control. Insufficient understanding of the female body isn't a product of your ignorance - it's a form of oppression, just like a lot of other stuff we talk about here. In my experience (and in yours, it sounds like), getting good information about almost anything pertaining to female anatomy or sexuality was virtually impossible, even from my doctors and sex educators. I mean, I didn't even know what a clitoris was until high school - and I didn't know it was "more than a little hill" until like, a few months ago!!! It's amazing that this kind of basic information isn't permitted to girls, while by fifth grade or so, boys are offered the ins and outs of every possible anatomical scenario (i.e. wet dreams, asymmetrical testes, having a curved penis, even frank discussions about "how much pornography is okay"). The internet has become an invaluable tool for women who participate in communities like this one, and who share a wealth of wisdom with one another.
I also wanted to ask whether you tried different pills with different amount of estrogen/progesterone in them - if not, there may yet be a pill out there for you that doesn't cause those icky side effects. Though I never found a pill that was right for me, many women report that low-estrogen BC has a very limited effect on their libido.
But yeah, congratulations on recovering your sexuality and taking charge of your body! :) I hope in the future, you'll feel safe asking questions here - and I'll go ahead and offer up another resource, indiebride.com, which has hundreds of threads on every health-related subject imaginable. It started out as a forum for discussing alternative weddings, but because a rich community of thousands of diverse women (brides and non-brides) who talk about everything from birth control to polyamory (to feminist weddings!).
Best of luck on your feminist journey, Lori, and know that you have a friend here. :)
Kate
Thanks for posting this. I was recently debating whether or not to go on the pill because of my terrible acne. I had always heard that the pill helped with acne, assuming it occurs because of hormones.
After reading this, I decided not to take it. My mother talked to a gynecologist friend of hers and she seemed to agree with me - I am not like many women my age who get terrible cramps or crazy mood swings to begin with. Actually, I have never skipped a period once in my life, and I have had it for 10 years (I am 19: you do the math :) ) The reason for acne is probably not hormonal, so I was put on antibiotics recently which help a lot.
The only thing I find weird about all this is that I have never had any sort of sexual desire, ever, and I've always felt awkward about that. I feel it is a problem, but I have no idea what the solution is. I was just wondering if anyone else has ever felt the same way around here, or has something to say about it.
(Sorry for taking this COMPLETELY off topic!)
I was wondering if you had any problems getting an iud?
I am not taking any form of long-term birth contol - just comdoms but I don't feel totally comfortable with their reliability. I was thinking of starting the pill but this made me re-think the decision.
However I've heard that doctors often won't give you an IUD if you haven't had a child.
There definitely seems to be a lack of understanding surrounding IUDs, but I would like to mention that outside the United States, the IUD is one of the most popular forms of birth control in the world among women, and 18% of female gynecologists in the United States use an IUD, compared to only 2% of the female population. (learned from my Planned Parenthood Doc!) In my seuxality class, several women were also under the impression that you have to have children to have an IUD, which was one of my questions originally, but it is not true. There are probably plenty of doctors out there who might say that, but the only reason that is recommended is because it is easier to insert if you have already had a child (your cervix is easier to dilate).
I had a doctor at PP who specialized in IUDs, and I gave her my reasons (cost-effective, difficulty with hormonal pills, etc) and she agreed that this is probably a good idea for me, even though I haven't had a child. I've had mine for about 5 months now, and I'm definitely happy with it, but that's me, and they probably aren't for everybody. I'd say to seek out a dr who will take your thoughts seriously (as it kind of is YOUR body) and not dismiss your interest simply because of your age/child status.
Yuna - first of all, sexuality and sexual feelings are super-complex, different to each individual, and strongly affected by social influences and the people around you - so there's no canned answer to your query about your lack of sexual feelings. Moreover, at age 19, it's very possible that your body and psychology simply haven't arrived at a full range of sexuality yet! That said, I'll go ahead and mention that at least one out of every 100 people self-identifies as asexual or as having no sexual desires (according to this commonly cited survey). There are tons of awareness groups and resources out there in support of asexuality, which is not a "problem," but just another sexual identify (like homosexual, heterosexual, etc.). If low or absent sexual desire causes personal stress or interpersonal difficulties, therapy is usually prescribed, and medical reasons such as endocrine imbalances are investigated.
mintmullally and Britbacca - You're definitely right that in the US, IUDs are strangely unpopular and not widely discussed. I know a couple of people who have had them for many years and love them!
Personally, I don't feel I'm a good IUD candidate for a few reasons: 1) they are not recommended for women who normally have a heavy flow, low immune response (ever since having West Nile Virus a few years ago, my immune system has been unreliable and requires serious maintenance to be kept in good shape), or unexplained vaginal bleeding (which I did for about two years, as I mentioned in my post); 2) while I believe I have largely and effectively processed and dealt with the psychological and physical damages my rapist inflicted on me, I still feel invaded by strangers and foreign objects up in there (this hasn't been helped by a sequence of really bad gynecologists), and I think a) the insertion procedure would be very psychologically taxing and b) my body would probably reject the device.
Maybe in a few years, though :)
P.S. Thanks to whoever recommended me! :)
Kate - I realize no one here would laugh at me, but almost everyone around me would, so it kind of carries over, I guess. Everyone I've talked to here has been amazingly nice and understanding. Unfortunately, it is very true that getting a good sex education is almost impossible for me. However, I've just transferred doctors, so this new doctor, a female, might just help me out a lot. I agree that it's very amazing, and sad, that women aren't allowed this information. And I hope you're enjoying the discovery of your clitoris ;)
The birth-control I was taking was Yaz, which is a low estrogen pill. Because it was low estrogen, I almost don't want to try any other type of pill. It's just too scary for me. I'm just now starting to really enjoy sex again. I don't want to lose that.
Thank you very much for the link! I'll definitely be checking it out!
I've had both good and bad experiences with the pill. My first go-round was when I was still in HS and the results were spectacular. I was even-tempered, no acne, and obviously not preggo (the main reason for getting it in the first place). Second time around was after I had given birth to my son about six or seven years later, and it completely derailed any libido I had had. I got off it PRONTO. Third time, I got back on for acne-related reasons, and it failed me BIG TIME. I wound up switching to a different brand, which has treated me wonderfully ever since, and I love it.
One of my sisters refuses to go back on the pill, due to her awful experiences on it. Your entry here makes me think about her and understand more why she may not want to look into it again.
My partner and I are holding out for the male pill. ;) Hurry up, scientists!
I hope they frontpage this article on feministing!!!!!! More women need to know about these common-but-un-talked-about reactions to BC.
Thanks, TravelKat! I agree! ;)
I finally had my fill of the pill last December. By the end of January I had planned with my doctor (a young woman) to try out the copper IUD. I am 28 with no kids and I do have slightly heavy periods when on no contraception. The IUD freed me from the pill, which did destroy my libido and put a lot of strain on my relationship. Although my boyfriend is an understanding guy, he also couldn't stop himself from thinking that maybe I just didn't find him attractive. My libido returned to its old self almost immediately. That is nice.
However, my periods now last 10 days and for 2-4 of them, the bleeding is UNBELIEVABLE. I'm considering switching to the Mirena, which is an IUD with some hormones, because the hormones are then localized and therefore less likely to be distributed throughout my entire body and therefore less likely to have an impact on my moods and libido. Does anyone have any experience with this?
I finally had my fill of the pill last December. By the end of January I had planned with my doctor (a young woman) to try out the copper IUD. I am 28 with no kids and I do have slightly heavy periods when on no contraception. The IUD freed me from the pill, which did destroy my libido and put a lot of strain on my relationship. Although my boyfriend is an understanding guy, he also couldn't stop himself from thinking that maybe I just didn't find him attractive. My libido returned to its old self almost immediately. That is nice.
However, my periods now last 10 days and for 2-4 of them, the bleeding is UNBELIEVABLE. I'm considering switching to the Mirena, which is an IUD with some hormones, because the hormones are then localized and therefore less likely to be distributed throughout my entire body and therefore less likely to have an impact on my moods and libido. Does anyone have any experience with this?
I have never posted on a site before but I have been looking up info on various things. I started this new pill Ocella the other day. I am not sure about the side effects. I have been on the pill on and off since I was 16-now 27. THis is avctually a post somewhat for RADIOLOGYGIRL79 specifically, as I'm curious what pill she's taking that is not ruining her libido.
My story-Went off the pill for two years with ex-sex life sucked, but I have always been a very sexual person. Obviously the ex's problem...as once I met current boyfriend, I was insane for it. But I had to start pill with current boyfriend because I was taking accutane. Convenient that pregnancy would not occur, continued taking pill. Recently acyst was found on my left ovary and I had to have ovary and cyst removed. During the two months of surgery and healing-was off pill with wonderful current boyfriend, and I wanted nothing more than to jump his bones constantly. It is a wonderful feeling. Even with all the ovary drama. But I am pretty much healed, and started this pill, and already a couple days into it noticing a slight difference in my libido-which is an awful prospect. I love sex, I love this man, I do NOT want babies right now-I HATE condoms... And I DO want babies in the future. So. I am going to talk to the doc, but I know he's going to say wait 1-3 months. Any advice? Specifically, certain pills that do not have such a profound affect on libido?
Thanks if you respond.