opinion

Texas and Birth Control: A Love-Hate Relationship (Mostly Hate)

A new study confirms Texas is *technically* not the worst at birth control access—but it's certainly not making it easy. Welcome to the land of mixed messages and moral loopholes.

Naomi Patel

By Naomi Patel

Published July 17, 2025 at 1:19pm


Ah, Texas—the land of big hats, bigger trucks, and even bigger contradictions when it comes to reproductive rights. A new study has confirmed what many of us already knew: the Lone Star State is technically not the worst at birth control access, but it’s certainly not winning any awards unless the category is 'Most Likely to Make You Jump Through Hoops for Basic Healthcare.' Tied with Tennessee (because of course it is), Texas proudly sits in the bottom six states for contraception access, sandwiched between Kansas—the reigning champion of reproductive oppression—and Mississippi, where the state motto might as well be 'But Have You Tried Praying?'

Let’s break down this masterpiece of bureaucratic absurdity, shall we? Texas earns its 'mixed' rating by playing both sides—like a politician at a fundraiser, pretending to care while quietly pocketing donations from Big Abstinence. Half the laws are 'restrictive,' and the other half are 'protective,' which is basically the legislative equivalent of serving a vegan burger with a side of bacon.

Take Medicaid expansion, for example. Texas, in its infinite wisdom, has decided that poor people don’t really need healthcare. Why bother with pesky things like 'contraception coverage' when you can just tell people to practice self-control? And if that fails, well, there’s always the Healthy Texas Women program—a name so patronizing it might as well be called 'Here’s a Lollipop, Sweetie.' Sure, it covers contraception for women making up to 204% of the federal poverty level, but don’t get too excited, minors and men! You’re on your own.

Then there’s the 'extended supply' policy, which requires insurers to offer a 12-month supply of birth control—but only after forcing you to endure a three-month trial run, like you’re test-driving a car instead of trying to avoid an unplanned pregnancy. And let’s not forget the pharmacists who can refuse to fill your prescription because their sky daddy said no. Because nothing says 'pro-life' like denying someone the ability to prevent a pregnancy.

But the real pièce de résistance? Texas’s sex education policy, which is basically a game of telephone played by a group of monks who’ve taken a vow of silence. Schools don’t have to teach it, parents have to opt-in, and when they do, the curriculum is abstinence-only—because teaching kids about contraception would be far too radical. Better to just cross your fingers and hope they don’t Google anything.

At the end of the day, Texas’s approach to birth control is like a bad Tinder date: it gives you just enough hope to stick around, but ultimately leaves you frustrated and wondering why you bothered. But hey, at least we’re not Kansas! (Small victories, y’all.)