Juliet was hanging out with her aunt and relaxing while she was swimming in a Georgia lake last spring when her aunt brought up birth control.
Juliet is 15, in ninth grade and very busy. She’s learning to drive, playing tennis, playing flute seriously in the marching band, and taking two AP courses. She is also completely indifferent to dating and sex. “I just don’t find it interesting,” she says.
Talking to her aunt made her realize that “there were a bunch of different types of birth control that I didn’t know existed,” says Juliet. (NPR only uses her first name to protect her privacy as a minor speaking about her sexual health.)
She had sex education in school – in Georgia it doesn’t have to be comprehensive and emphasize premarital abstinence. She says she hasn’t learned much about birth control options beyond the pill.
Then, at the end of June 2022, a few weeks after this conversation with her aunt, Roe v. Wade overturned by the Supreme Court. Georgia passed a trigger law in 2019, which comes into effect now, banning abortions six weeks before many people learn they are pregnant. There is an exception for rape, but only if you report it to the police.
Because of the new law, Juliet and her mother started talking about birth control. Her mother thought Julia might pass the information on to her friends who were sexually active. “It never crossed my mind that she would ask this for herself,” says her mother. But she noticed her daughter seemed anxious and stressed, and soon Juliet told her mother that she wanted to start birth control too.
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“I don’t think I was ever expected to want contraception,” Juliet explains. “I just didn’t want to worry that much — if I ever get raped, which I hope won’t happen, but if it ever did and I wasn’t on birth control, there would be a chance I’d have to keep the baby.”
“I feel like after everything happened,” she explains – after Roe v. Wade was lifted and the six-week suspension went into effect – “I just wanted to be a little bit in control.”
Just another stressor
Juliet expected her mother to say no to birth control. “We’ve talked about it before and it seemed like she was quite against it because it can mess with your hormones,” she says. “I don’t think someone as young as me would normally be the norm to be around.”
It is true that her mother hesitated. “I don’t like that,” she says. “[Juliet] experienced COVID in middle school – it hit at the end of sixth grade. She’s had some really, really bad bouts of depression and I was just – I was scared to death of what [birth control] could do something to her emotionally.”
Still, she could say that Juliet was genuinely upset by the Supreme Court decision and the sudden loss of access to abortion in her home state.
“You seemed so worried,” she tells her daughter. “You just felt like you couldn’t control your own life — and that upset me so much.”
Julia’s mother has spoken openly to her daughter about her own experiences. “I had an abortion when I was 15, and that’s something Juliet has known about for a long time,” she says. “It’s always been a part of our family conversations about sex and sexuality and self-esteem.”
“I think honesty has helped her understand how these things happen. And I think that’s part of her reaction to Roe v. Wade is. It’s not an abstract concept for them.”
It is also clear that sexual violence is not a remote threat to many young women across the country. A recent survey by the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention found that 18% of high school girls said they had been subjected to sexual violence in the past year.
“I think it’s a pretty big fear,” says Juliet. She recalls walking around the neighborhood with a friend: “Anytime a car slowed down with a man next to us, we both got scared. I think about that every day.”
Her mother remarks, “I think that’s a sad way of growing up.”
After Juliet’s father was brought into the family discussion, a decision was made. Juliet would start birth control.
weighing the options
It might go without saying, but anyone can get pregnant just before their first period starts. In the US, this usually happens around the age of 12. Last summer, the case of a 10-year-old Ohio girl who became pregnant after being raped and had to travel to Indiana for an abortion made national headlines.
In states with restrictive laws, obtaining an abortion for minors can be even more difficult than for adults. Minors sometimes require parental permission and may have limited transportation or financial resources. The alternative – carrying a pregnancy to term – can be taxing on a young person’s body, affecting their education and life prospects.
This is where teenage contraception comes in. “The median age for sexual intercourse in the United States is about 17,” said Cynthia Harper, a contraceptive researcher at the University of California, San Francisco. When teens have sex, “over 75% of them use some form of birth control, so most of them have thought about it and gotten insurance beforehand.”
According to national surveys, condoms are mostly used by young people, she says, “which makes sense, they’re more readily available and you don’t need a prescription.” They also tend to take the pill, she adds. Both options can be unreliable if not used properly. While she hopes the FDA will soon make the pill available over-the-counter, right now you need a prescription, which can be a major roadblock.
Harper believes young people need access to information about a range of options, including long-acting birth control such as IUDs, injections and implants. “Different people have different needs, so it’s important that they learn about many methods, not just the condom or just the pill,” she says. It’s common for sex education to skimp on the details of contraceptive options, she says.
Of Juliet’s decision to start birth control because of Georgia’s abortion restrictions and her fear of assault, Harper says, “Those fears are pretty intense for someone that age — it’s really upsetting.”
A shot to calm down
In July, Julia’s mother took her to a youth clinic in her hometown to consult with a nurse about options. The nurse did not recommend an IUD to someone her age. “I’m not very good with pills right now,” says Juliet. It can be difficult to remember to take them every day, and if you forget, they are less likely to work to prevent pregnancy. The arm implant option was also not popular. “I’m just nervous about it — it scares me,” she says.
That’s how she ended up with Depo-Provera – an injection in a clinic that lasts three months. She had her first chance during that visit to the clinic in July and has since had two more. Her parents gave her the choice, believing that she should be in control of her reproductive decisions. “I don’t think it’s fair for me to make that decision for her,” her mother says. “I wouldn’t have wanted that decision to be made for me.”
That being said, Julia’s mother isn’t a fan. “My big fear with Depo, specifically, was that it would change her mood and there was nothing we could do about it,” she says. “And that’s what happened — undeniably.”
“It’s a cost-benefit analysis situation – what makes you more anxious, the fear of not being protected should something happen to you? Or those times when this drug is really, really supercharging her system and she’s feeling miserable, can’t sleep, can’t eat?” She asks. “It’s not a great place to be, it really is not.”
The logistics were a challenge. The youth clinic is set up for a citywide high school and is not open on weekends. Her parents took her several times and found that the clinic was closed. Once she had to miss school and have a family friend take her to get the shot.
“It just seems like one challenge at a time being heaped on young girls,” says her father.
For Juliet, “birth control makes me feel safe, but it has really bad side effects — I feel very depressed and very anxious,” she says. It also changes her appetite for about a week after she gets it and her periods have stopped.
Her mother finds that despite all of these challenges, Juliet is in the best possible position.
“She has approachable parents with the tools and transportation to get her where she needs to go and the tenacity to keep trying. She feels comfortable talking to us,” she says. “That’s — in a really crappy situation — the best-case scenario.”
She worries about the teens across Georgia who don’t have those resources, and what they will do — let alone teens in other states that restrict abortions.
Birth control is worthwhile for Juliet because of the protection it gives her. “Obviously, being really depressed for a week is easier for me than having a baby,” she says. “I don’t have to worry that much — I don’t have to think about it that much.”