thoughts that challenge
A space for diverse perspectives and meaningful dialogue. The Op-Ed section features thought-provoking opinion pieces on the issues that matter most to women, including leadership and equality, culture, politics, education, and social change. Each writer has their own style, so please keep that in mind when reading! If something’s not to your taste or you don’t agree with the claim presented, I ask readers to kindly move on to either another piece or section. Thank you!
— The Thread
Pink: More Than Just A Color
By: Amira Niezen
I'm not trying to speak for every girl, but I've lost count of how many times I've heard someone say, “I used to hate pink so much when I was little." And it wasn't just one shade, either. If it was anywhere on the pink spectrum, many of us wanted absolutely nothing to do with it.
I was one of those girls. I refused to wear pink whenever I could, and I even insisted for a while that my favorite color was black. There's nothing wrong with liking the color black, but for me, that just wasn’t the case. Looking back, my rejection of pink wasn't at all about the color itself: it was about everything the color represented.
A color by itself carries no weight or personality. Yet we attribute entire identities to it. Pink became associated with fragility and beauty, while blue was linked to confidence and strength. Believe it or not, kids are very perceptive, especially at a young age. Even before they’ve fully understood what gender roles are, they notice which qualities society values and which it dismisses completely.
The Guardian Magazine
For many young girls, disliking pink became more than disliking a color: it became a way of actively rejecting the assumptions that came with it. Pink represented being "girly," which was often portrayed as weak, dramatic, or less capable than the rest. Due to these attributions, we then took distance from pink, as if we were distancing ourselves from those stereotypes. Choosing black, blue, or any other color wasn't necessarily about fashion: it was, consciously or not, an attempt to be taken more seriously in a space where that opportunity wasn’t always given.
Ironically, many of us (myself included) eventually grew out of that phase. Not because the meaning of pink changed, but rather because we realized it never needed defending in the first place. The problem was never about the color. It was the meanings we had credited to it.
Pink is neither empowering nor limiting. It is simply a color like any other. True empowerment comes when girls feel free to love pink, hate pink, or wear every shade in between without believing that any choice says something about their intelligence, strength, or worth.
My body, A MAN’S CHOICE
Explaining anything to some men can be hard; sometimes we've really got to dumb things down, and then, maybe, if you’re lucky (and very patient), they'll come closer to forming some understanding. But perhaps the problem is that we have been explaining ourselves to men for far too long. We live in a world where a room of men—a room I might as well call a frat—can decide what we wear, what we do with our bodies, and which beauty standards we are expected to resemble. Somehow, even our health has become something to debate, regulate, and control. And that is the patriarchy at its finest hour: men making decisions about the very experiences they will never have to live through. And so the abortion conundrum begins: in a room full of men.
"March for Life" in Washington, D.C., U.S., January 23, 2026. REUTERS/Kylie Cooper Purchase Licensing Rights
Written By: A Woman —Micaela Gonzalez
We are told that choice is a right we attain at birth. Yet, all over the world, women are constantly criticized simply for taking action over their own bodies. The rising and contentious predicament of abortion has led to a variety of divergent controversies in our modern-day society. Some refute by blaming women without validity or logic. Of course, let's blame the person with a uterus; it's totally reasonable! Jokes aside, abortion is a human right, and its criminalization will not magically eradicate abortions; instead, if birth control were accessible to all, condoms were free, and some good sex-ed were taught, perhaps we could prevent more unintended pregnancies in the first place.
In my personal opinion, though… if men could get pregnant, abortions would be sold in vending machines: quick, easy, and cheap. Nonetheless, when a woman becomes pregnant, abortions become a felony, a crime, and a sin. So if it is not men who carry a pregnancy, why do they get to decide, and why must we abide? As we begin to unravel the dilemma of abortion, there is one evident and, dare I say, indisputable conclusion: Banning abortions does not protect anyone. On the contrary, it only deepens patriarchal ideals where men believe they have the right to control women's bodies and choices.
Making something illegal doesn't mean it will just vanish into thin air. Likewise, the criminalization of abortion will not induce prevention or elimination; instead, it will just endanger women's lives. In fact, abortion rates are remarkably similar regardless of their legal status: 37 per 1,000 people in countries that prohibit abortion altogether or allow it only in instances to save a woman’s life, and 34 per 1,000 people in countries that broadly allow for abortion, a difference that is not statistically significant (Singh et al., 2018). Independent of whether abortion is legal or not, women still require and regularly access abortion services. And yet, this evidence demonstrates that abortions will continue to occur despite legal prohibitions. Banning abortion will only push women toward unsafe circumstances. So, is it really worth risking women’s lives at the expense of a man-made law?
No fancy words, no sugarcoating, I will say this bluntly and plainly: abortions are a human right. Careful though! BEWARE! Don't repeat this to most guys; learn from my mistake and save yourself from eternal mansplaining and a hilarious attempt to recite the Universal Declaration of Human Rights (Wait until they find out it was a woman who led its creation). Our good friend, Amnesty, states that access to a safe abortion is a fundamental human right. Under international human rights law, everyone is entitled to bodily autonomy. Hence, forcing someone to carry an unwanted pregnancy against their will is a direct violation of these rights. If breaking the law to ban this medical procedure is a consequence, restricting it should not even be an option in the first place.
In a society that claims to value freedom and individual choice, it is contradictory to condemn women for making decisions about their own bodies, treating something that is at its core deeply human as though it were inherently shameful. Your body, your choice, yet society seems to think otherwise. The real danger lies in the criminalization of abortions by those who will never experience its consequences.