Words by: Hilma Halil
Art by: Tessa Cameron

I’m 22 and I started taking the pill four months ago, so you can trust me when I say I’ve got the realest and freshest spills about the pill.

Birth control is praised for being affordable, effective, and almost foolproof. This is all for good reason, but growing up in an Asian household, those two words were enough to spark a riot between my mum and I.

In a conservative home where tradition and religion run deep, sex is seen as the devil’s work. And birth control? The devil’s right-hand man. To my parents, the pill wasn’t a tool for safety; it was a green light for immorality.

Still, I’d always been curious about the pill, but I told myself I’d only take it when I found the right person. Someone who’d support me, not judge me. Someone who’d appreciate that I was literally taking one for the team. Especially after growing up on a diet of horror stories, like how it’ll make you gain weight, turn you into an emotional wreck, drive your partner away or worse, leave you infertile. 

Fast forward four years, I’ve moved out, moved abroad, and finally have the freedom to make choices for myself. I’m on the pill now, all without the fear of my mom’s conservative echoes from the other side of my bedroom wall.

So… how has this change actually changed me?

For starters, it turned me into a milk girl. I used to let cartons expire in my fridge like they were cursed. Milk was strictly a cereal companion, never a main character. But four months on the pill? I’m downing a glass or two daily! I’ve gone from wasting milk to finishing three litres in under a week. My bones have never been stronger. 

Emotionally? A bit unhinged, more so in the clingy – I need attention from this one specific person, or I will combust – kind of way. I find myself overthinking minor things and spiralling when I don’t get the response I want. The good news is, it’s not constant; however, when it does happen, I feel like a walking rom-com meltdown. Pre-pill, I was far more chill. Now? I’m borderline feral.

The plus side? I’ve become more vocal about my needs. Sure, it’s sometimes mid-fit, but hey, at least I’m communicating. It’s progress with just a little bit of chaos.

Physically, the changes are subtle but sneaky. I didn’t notice a huge appetite shift aside from the whole milk madness, but my metabolism definitely slowed down. I’ve always been someone whose facial fat fluctuates visibly. Gain or lose a bit of weight, and my cheeks tell the tale. Lately, though, no matter how clean I eat, the puffiness just won’t budge.

And oddly? I don’t crave meat the way I used to. Get your mind out of the gutter – not that kind of meat! I used to go feral for a steak at least once a month, but now? The thought barely crosses my mind.

The cramps? Next-level. I’ve always had painful periods, but now they feel like internal knife fights. My cycle is regular, but the pain is unforgiving! The flow? Either a crime scene or a ghost town. There’s no in-between.

Then came the acne. I’ve had clear skin all my life thanks to a solid routine I’ve stuck with since I was 15, so I thought I was immune. Boy, was I humbled! Tiny bumps popped up like uninvited guests, and my usually glowing face turned dry and dull. Safe to say, this wasn’t my favourite side effect.

Sexually, there’s been a slight dip in libido. Nothing relationship-shattering, but I’m not as easily aroused as I used to be. I still love my partner deeply, but it feels like my body’s taking longer to get the memo.

I was warned about the pill’s side effects, but I didn’t expect them to be this niche! 

The wildest part? I don’t regret it. It cracked me open, forcing me to pay attention to myself in ways I never did before. It changed me. And honestly? I think this new me is hot as.