Two months before I entered my freshman year of high school, Roe v. Wade was overturned. At 14 years old, I was too young to cast a vote for or against the politicians in Florida who would go on to severely restrict access to abortion. Yet I was old enough to bear the life-altering consequences of their decisions.
In Florida, abortion is now banned at six weeks of pregnancy, a decision that was made only 10 months after Roe was overturned.
This restriction is already harmful enough. But as a teenager under the age of 18, I, and millions of my peers, had an added barrier to receiving reproductive healthcare: Florida’s parental consent laws.
Even during the legal six-week timeframe, a minor can only obtain an abortion in Florida (as well as prescription birth control and STI treatment, in many cases) if a parent gives their written permission.
While it sounds innocent enough, this system is completely backward.
A big portion of the reasoning behind Florida’s parental consent requirement is that minors are apparently not mature enough to decide whether to keep a pregnancy. Even a minor that is 17 and 11 months old is still “not mature enough” to have that choice for another month.
Yet, a minor is considered mature enough to become a parent, to go through labor and childbirth, and to financially and emotionally care for and make daily decisions about a child.
Suddenly, the concern about whether a teen is responsible enough is gone.
It seems the state only trusts teens with the fallout of pregnancy, not the choice to be pregnant. Instead, that life-changing decision is left in the hands of parents or guardians, who may or may not be willing and able to be involved in that conversation.
Whether that be due to some teens having a strained or nonexistent relationship with their guardians, fear of abuse or coercion, parents away on vacation, or even a desire for normalcy within family dynamics, some teens simply can’t or don’t feel comfortable involving a guardian in the conversation.
Any of these barriers can prevent teens from receiving the care that is right and safe for their bodies. Instead, it can lead to dangerous, even life-threatening outcomes.
Ideally, all teens could talk to their parents about these decisions. And while most people my age do feel comfortable doing so, not every teen has this privilege. In cases like these, patient safety should be the number one priority. But parental consent laws ignore this, hurting those in less-than-ideal situations the most.
The reality is that individuals, including teens, know their situation the best, not politicians. Young folks should be trusted with the ability to decide who they want to talk to for guidance and support, and to make the decision that’s best for their own body and future.
