A few weeks ago, pink streamers, heart-shaped cookies and whispered plans filled the air as Valentine’s Day approached. It was a day for love notes slipped under dorm doors and reservations made weeks in advance. Beneath all the roses and chocolate, there is a quieter truth that most people on college campuses know and rarely name: Students are having sex. And that is not something shameful, reckless or surprising. It is something undeniably human.
Georgetown University, however, continues to treat student sexuality like a secret rather than a reality. Despite branding itself as a university committed to “cura personalis,” Georgetown withholds basic sexual health resources from students, especially during moments like Valentine’s Day when intimacy is at the front and center. The university should actively support students with accessible contraception, emergency care and open dialogue both during and outside of this holiday. Instead, it offers silence, restrictions and moral distance.
I write this not as a casual observer but as someone who has spent years immersed in reproductive health advocacy and care. I have worked with H*yas for Choice throughout my time at Georgetown, sitting on the executive board and working to organize advocacy initiatives, further sexual health resources and keep the organization running smoothly. I have sat in exam rooms as an OB-GYN medical assistant, and I have conducted sexual health research with Alaska Native communities through the Alaska Native Tribal Health Consortium. I am also currently completing a global health honors thesis examining the connections between abortion access and maternal health since Roe v. Wade was overturned. Across clinics, communities and classrooms, I have learned one consistent lesson: When institutions refuse to support sexual health, people suffer. When provided with the necessary support, people thrive.
At Georgetown, the Student Health Center cannot prescribe students hormonal birth control medication solely for contraception. If students want these medications, they instead must be prescribed for extraneous reasons such as painful menstrual cramps or acne. There is no university-provided emergency contraception. There are no free condoms available through campus health services. This stands in stark contrast to the standard at many universities, where contraception, safer sex supplies and emergency care are treated as basic components of student health. Institutionally, Georgetown continues to reject abortion care by refusing to acknowledge pro-choice student groups or stances, while simultaneously platforming anti-choice viewpoints that further stigmatize reproductive autonomy. These policies do not prevent sex — they simply make it less safe.
This disconnect became especially glaring around Valentine’s Day. The university leaned into the aesthetics of romance while avoiding the responsibility of care. We celebrated love while withholding the tools students need to navigate intimacy safely, responsibly and with dignity.
Sex is not a moral failure; it is a part of life. It can be joyful, meaningful, awkward, vulnerable and powerful. Pretending otherwise does not align with reality, and it certainly does not align with Georgetown’s stated commitment to student well-being. When access to contraception is limited, students face higher risks of unintended pregnancy, sexually transmitted infections and emotional distress. When conversations about sex are silenced, shame fills the gap.
And yet, in the absence of institutional support, students support each other.
H*yas for Choice has spent years doing what Georgetown will not. We provide free condoms, dental dams, lubricant and emergency contraception to students because we know firsthand that care cannot wait for policy shifts. We host workshops, answer questions and create spaces where sexual health is discussed with honesty rather than judgment. Our message is simple: We support us.
However, student organizations should not have to function as the primary sexual health safety net at a university of Georgetown’s size and resources. Peer-led care is powerful, but it should supplement institutional support, not replace it.
Valentine’s Day should be more than simply heart-shaped balloons. It should be a moment when Georgetown affirms that student health includes sexual health. Georgetown could be a campus where free contraception is available without stigma. Where emergency contraception is easy to obtain when it matters most. Where health providers can prescribe birth control without bureaucratic barriers. Where conversations about sex are grounded in compassion rather than fear. This is not radical. It is standard at countless universities across the country.
Georgetown students are adults. We form relationships, explore intimacy and make choices about our bodies every day. The university can either meet us with trust and support or continue pretending we are not doing exactly what humans have done for all of history.
Let us be honest about love. Let us acknowledge that care is part of romance, that protection is part of pleasure and that health is part of humanity. Let us ask Georgetown to finally show up for its students in the ways that matter most.
Until then, we will keep showing up for each other.
Sydney Hudson is a senior in the School of Health.
