Overview:
Despite progressive policies, access to critical care remains limited; emergency contraception vending machines may help.
Following a late-night Target run straight out of my worst nightmare, I began to consider how difficult it is for women in America to obtain emergency contraception. The pregnancy scare occurred years ago, but it has not left my mind since.
I went to the store after hours of overthinking and debating what steps to take because I felt no one could help me. As a solution, I used what I knew and compared Plan B prices on Google, eventually settling on Target because it appeared to be the cheapest and easiest location.
In the healthcare aisle, next to Target’s closed pharmacy, I browsed the section full of Plan B options, condoms and OTC birth control. At the time, Plan B would cost me nearly $48. I picked up a box, which was locked in a clear plastic container that would have to be opened by an employee. So that meant that self-checkout, even if it wasn’t closed, wasn’t an option.
Three of the registers were open. Without looking up, I placed both Plan B and the pregnancy test at the checkout. I said hello to the cashier but then we paused to stare at each other; we were in one of the same classes and now she was selling me contraceptives.
I felt like I was going to die from embarrassment right then and there. Rather than making things more awkward, she gave me the price as we exchanged small smiles. I grabbed the rest of my belongings and left. As I was walking away, I noticed her rush over to her coworker and start talking. I am not sure if I was mentioned in that conversation, but I felt so insecure it was almost shameful.
Weeks later, we’d end up working together. We had a normal conversation and both pretended like the event at Target didn’t happen. But even if we didn’t discuss it, that sense of shame—over fretting about the cost, running into people I knew and being in the situation in the first place—still lingered.
My experience of being freaked out over buying contraception is an experience I don’t wish on anyone. However, due to the high cost of contraception and limited access to these products in our country, it is a reality that far too many women are familiar with.
Despite the state’s efforts, such as in 2021 when the Colorado General Assembly passed SB21-009, also known as the Reproductive Health Care Program, little progress has been achieved. The bill made contraception available through a program funded by the Department of Health Care Policy for over $4 million.
While still in effect, the bill is far from perfect. Consider the fees and protection costs associated with gaining access, such as transportation or scheduling appointments with a physician to secure contraception, even if options are available.
Although progressive reproductive health laws exist, the process of purchasing contraception, particularly in emergencies, remains overly complicated. Colorado should provide readily available aid, as well as intuitive measures that reduce embarrassment, excessive waiting times and high cost for resources.
One solution that legislators and other decisionmakers should consider is increasing access to harm reduction vending machines outside of schools, clinics and shelters. These devices are currently being utilized at schools like Fort Lewis College in Durango and give students handy access to not only emergency contraceptives but also naloxone, drug testing strips, menstrual products, hygiene kits and more.
While both Boulder Community Health and Denver Health have these kinds of machines, they are aimed at preventing overdoses rather than increasing access to emergency contraceptives. Why not both?
College students and low-income people are disproportionately affected by pregnancy scares because they lack the resources to obtain contraception immediately. According to a 2024 study by the World Health Organization, young adults, especially teens, are having more unprotected sex. “Almost a third of adolescents (30%) reported using neither a condom nor the contraceptive pill at last intercourse, a figure that has barely changed since 2018.”
Without easy access to emergency contraception, this trend of decreased condom usage will lead to an increase in unplanned pregnancies and sexually transmitted diseases. Because access to contraception is generally available at many higher education institutions, they have had to work through various methods of implementing or improving how we obtain contraceptive resources, rather than simply providing information on a flyer.
At Denver University, the department THRIVE, also known as the Thrive Health Promotion under the DU Health & Counseling Center (HCC), is committed to doing just that. THRIVE commits to supporting both the campus and community “regarding health and well-being topics using upstream prevention and harm reduction strategies.”
The staff works with students to explain topics such as sexual health and reproductive care through “collaboration with our Undergraduate Student Government,” explains Jessie McGinty, who is the director of the Health and Counseling Center’s THRIVE Health Promotion team. “Our team had received a donation of emergency contraception, and their team was actively researching vending machine options as part of a larger initiative, so we knew we had a common goal and could be most effective working together.”
While they work to reduce barriers and stigmas, they also continue to provide contraceptive resources in lockers and brainstorm new ways to implement fair access. “We really wanted to have the locker as an option for students who felt like meeting with a staff member would be a barrier to access and who would need access to emergency contraception outside of standard business hours,” McGinty said.
Contraceptives are stocked primarily with condom brands, over-the-counter birth control pills, pregnancy tests and Plan B pills, the majority of which are locked inside a clear container and can only be retrieved by having the cashier open it for you, exacerbating the awkwardness of purchasing them. THRIVE limits that feeling with its locker system, but could take additional steps to improve the experience.
Vending machines stocked with these items would provide students and the general public with discreet, easy access to these items. However, there is currently only one contraceptive vending machine, which is located at rural Fort Lewis College in Durango.
Why aren’t there more of these machines on campuses and in community centers around the Denver metro area? I pondered that question for a while, wondering why it was so difficult to discuss contraception vending machines with local universities and the city, most of whom declined to comment on the devices.
But rather than giving up, I believe it’s time to double down on the fight for inclusive, accessible contraception for all. Increasing access to contraception isn’t just about convenience—it’s about dignity, equity, and ensuring everyone has the resources to take control of their reproductive health without unnecessary barriers or shame.
While Colorado has made strides in reproductive healthcare through recent legislative efforts, these measures alone haven’t resolved the fundamental issue: immediate, affordable and discreet access to emergency contraception remains limited. Emergency contraception vending machines, currently rare across campuses and community spaces, offer a tangible, practical solution.
Institutions like Fort Lewis College in Durango have demonstrated the effectiveness of this model, but widespread adoption of these vending machines in the Denver metro area remains inexplicably stagnant. National organizations such as the American Society for Emergency Contraception are already playing a critical role in expanding access by providing campuses nationwide with practical guidance and resources to implement contraception vending machines.
Similarly, local Denver nonprofits like Justice Necessary underline the intersection between hygiene insecurity and reproductive healthcare barriers, pointing out that limited access to essential products, whether contraception or basic hygiene supplies, severely impacts personal dignity and well-being. By collaborating closely with policymakers, educational institutions and community advocates, these organizations could become pivotal in driving the widespread adoption of contraception vending machines.
Integrating contraception into existing harm reduction vending machines—such as those currently deployed in Boulder and Denver to prevent overdoses—is an efficient, cost-effective and practical step forward. Ultimately, contraception vending machines should not be viewed merely as conveniences but as vital public health infrastructure. They normalize reproductive healthcare, reduce stigmatization, and empower individuals, especially students, low-income residents and marginalized groups, to make autonomous health decisions.
Policymakers, educational institutions, and community leaders in Colorado must act decisively. Expanding these vending machines is not just a progressive policy; it’s a necessary step toward genuine health equity and empowerment. Let’s advocate not just for the availability of these machines but for a broader shift toward inclusive, barrier-free reproductive healthcare. Our communities deserve nothing less.
