When I was eleven years old, symptoms of undiagnosed hypothyroidism, elevated adrenal glands, and polycystic ovary syndrome began to surface. I was frequently sick and, because my acne and hirsutism bred middle school torment, had poor self-esteem. I was often out of school because I was more susceptible to and more affected by common illnesses like flus and strep throat. At one point, I developed cold sores around my entire mouth because I could not easily combat these viruses; this, in addition to hirsutism and acne, significantly lowered my self-confidence. Many of my peers picked on me because of my appearance, so I became more withdrawn and less confident in myself. I felt like I could no longer succeed even in things I enjoyed, like my schoolwork. I spent most nights after school obsessed with the day’s failures and could not see my successes. All I wanted was to feel beautiful and be accepted by my classmates, but frequent absences and rejection based on my appearance held me back from those wishes.

My mother and I visited several doctors during this time, none of whom reached a conclusive diagnosis. With each unsuccessful doctor’s visit, I felt like I would never get better. I imagined that I would never meet a man who wanted to spend his life with me, that I would not find success in any way because my appearance and frequent sickness would hold me back, and that I would never become healthy again. My mother, though, persevered. She was determined to get me the help I needed to become healthy and happy with myself. Since my family history includes many thyroid problems, she took me to a child endocrinologist who finally diagnosed me with hypothyroidism.

When I was prescribed thyroid medication, my health and my mental state improved. At twelve, I could attend middle school more regularly and made new friends; however, the thyroid medication did not affect my acne and hirsutism, and I still experienced a good deal of bullying. I did my best to face my tormentors every day, but after about six months, I felt defeated again. I became increasingly nervous just walking the halls of my middle school. Even on days when I was not bullied, I imagined that students laughing as I passed them were laughing at me. When I couldn’t overcome this anxiety, I began seeing a therapist who attempted to help me ignore the bullies and work through my daily worries.

My attempts to implement her advice fell flat. At thirteen, I began trying different products for acne and going to biweekly facial waxing appointments, but I still couldn’t eliminate the symptoms or the harassment. I desperately wanted to look like the other girls in my grade. I spent many nights crying about the bullying and wishing that some product would work. During my regular visits to the child endocrinologist, my mother advocated for me and asked routinely if there was something I might do to alleviate my acne and hirsutism. The doctor would respond that I should perhaps change my diet to alleviate the acne, but so long as I was healthy, it didn’t matter what I looked like. I felt deep down that he was right and my concerns were superficial, but I still wanted to fit in, be liked, and feel good about myself. I didn’t realize it is okay to want those things until one visit, when my mother answered the doctor’s dismissal, “She’s a fourteen-year-old girl. It matters to her.”

After that visit, the doctor began running tests on me and noticed that I had elevated adrenal glands. Around the same time, I had my first period, but just as quickly as it started, it disappeared, and it didn’t return. The doctor concluded that my undiagnosed hypothyroidism caused my adrenal glands to elevate, and because that issue had gone untreated for so long, I had developed polycystic ovary syndrome. To treat both issues—my elevated adrenal glands and the polycystic ovary syndrome—I was prescribed a hormonal contraceptive at the age of fourteen.

The symptoms from my elevated adrenal glands and polycystic ovary syndrome decreased rapidly. My acne cleared up within months. My hair growth decreased. My periods became regular. It felt like a miracle. I entered high school with renewed confidence. The bullying stopped. I made what must have been a hundred new friends and found my place on the speech and debate team, the band, the flag line, and in AP and honors classes. I had boyfriends. I learned what I wanted to do with my life—studying English literature—and I pursued it to the fullest. I attended the top college in Ohio for a time, then graduated from Ohio State University, where I continued to make new friends, excel in my studies, and generally feel good about my life and myself. Above all of that, though, I was healthy. I do still suffer from anxiety and depression, but I have found help in therapy and medications and learned to look for the good and find happiness in my career and through my family and friends. Since I began taking that hormonal contraceptive, my life changed dramatically for the better. It is amazing for me to think about how different my life may have been if I were not prescribed it. At eleven, I could never have imagined the health and happiness that could come from one pill.

Now, though, I am afraid that my access to this medication which helps me to maintain good mental and physical health will be cut off soon. I recently experienced issues with my former insurance company because they failed to cover my birth control one month. I paid $70 for my oral contraceptive that month and realized that if I had to pay the same amount every month, I likely could not afford it. I work now as an adjunct professor. I do not receive health care benefits, and it is difficult to pay for necessities like food, gas, and rent on my salary. I cannot imagine paying an additional $70 or more a month for my hormonal contraceptive—it simply won’t fit into my budget. I’m terrified that the insurance plans and places like Planned Parenthood that make this medication affordable will disappear.

I am now 28, and I do not dread the symptoms of acne and hirsutism from my elevated adrenal glands and polycystic ovary syndrome as I once did. I have friends, family, and a partner who I know will love me and accept me no matter what I look like. I am afraid that other symptoms relating to my health may manifest if I can no longer afford the contraceptives that keep my hormones balanced. I was told at a young age that I might not be able to conceive and, if I could, that pregnancy would likely be difficult. Then and now, I do not plan to have children. I intend to marry my current partner, but starting a family is not something that we have the desire to do; however, my concern about the unavailability of affordable birth control and abortive methods goes beyond my personal decision not to have children. Without affordable access to oral contraceptives and abortion methods, I am worried that I may become pregnant and will need to endure a difficult pregnancy that may endanger my life. I am also worried about the other issues that could manifest if I did not have access to hormonal contraceptives: ovarian cysts, diabetes, heart disease, and cancer, to name a few. As I get older, my chances of developing these diseases increases, and I am terrified that if I lose affordable access to the hormonal contraceptive that has kept me healthy for almost 15 years, I can become tremendously, and possibly terminally, ill in the future.

Finally, I am scared for the wonderful friends I have made and other women I do not know who use hormonal contraceptives for the same reasons I do—to help maintain their health in the face of polycystic ovary syndrome. Innumerable women, young and old, must deal with the symptoms of polycystic ovary syndrome and use hormonal contraceptives to do so. If these medications become inaccessible and unaffordable, countless women will suffer everything from poor self-esteem, to life-endangering pregnancies, to endometrial cancer. We need hormonal contraceptives and safe abortion methods to potentially survive. I am writing this as much for women like me as I am for myself, women who are scared that their means of maintaining their health and happiness will soon disappear, and for women who make the personal decisions, whatever their reasons, to take contraceptives and undergo abortion procedures. Like my mother before me, in the face of men in power who want to limit access to reproductive health care, for my continued health and happiness and that of other women, I have decided to stand up and say, “I am a woman. This matters to me.”