A screenshot of Tik Tok.
Tik Tok is a hotbed for political discourse on reproductive justice. Credit: Solen Feyissa / Unsplash Credit: Solen Feyissa / Unsplash

In the age of algorithms, the fight for reproductive justice has entered a new and urgent terrain. Anti-choice rhetoric is no longer confined to political speeches or fringe websites—it now saturates the digital spaces where many, especially youth and equity-deserving communities, seek out information, connection, and belonging . 

From trending TikToks and viral tweets to podcasts and anonymous comment sections, social media has become both a lifeline and a battleground: a place where we build community, but also where we must constantly confront attacks on bodily autonomy and truth. In this landscape, resilience is more than endurance—it’s an active, daily practice of reclaiming narrative and space amid a growing wave of hostility and misinformation.

This surge in anti-choice messaging is deeply influenced by Donald Trump’s second term in as President of the US and his aggressive campaign to dismantle reproductive rights. When the most powerful man in the world openly promotes policies aimed at stripping access to essential reproductive freedoms, these ideas inevitably trickle down. More young people are adopting anti-choice activism, seeing it modelled by world leaders, and then turning to social media to share and spread these messages, often without fully understanding the harm such rhetoric can cause. While I live in Canada, much of the online content I encounter is U.S.-based, and increasingly, this hostile messaging is infiltrating Canadian digital spaces too.

Resilience in this digital environment involves constant emotional and intellectual labour. Exposure to graphic misinformation, stigmatizing language, and online echo chambers threatens not only accurate knowledge but also a sense of hope and bodily autonomy for many people. For those seeking abortion care or advocating for reproductive justice, this online hostility can feel relentless, especially when it targets people of marginalized genders and racialized communities.

And yet, amid this noise, there is a powerful current of resistance rising from voices online

The fight for reproductive justice in digital spaces is not just defensive—it’s creative and collective. I see resistance unfolding in accessible Instagram explainers that break down complex issues with care, peer-led TikTok videos that dismantle harmful myths with relatable honesty, and anonymous support accounts offering answers and solidarity when major platforms often silence these vital conversations. Humour, too, becomes an important coping mechanism. Sometimes all you can do is laugh—at the absurdity, the injustice, the daily grind. Memes, sarcasm, and dark humour become ways of saying, “Yeah, same,” and finding solidarity in the scroll.

Across social media platforms, creators boldly confront the flood of misinformation and stigma surrounding abortion and reproductive justice. Take American writer and activist Jessica Valenti, for example. She uses her platforms to fill critical gaps in public knowledge, often responding to questions in TikTok comment sections that many viewers might be too afraid or unsure to ask anywhere else. She shares accessible, fact-based guidance—like how to safely access abortion pills online or clarifications on birth control restrictions in the U.S.

Beyond just education, Valenti also engages directly with anti-choice commenters, responding not with hostility, but with clear, evidence-based information that challenges stigma and misinformation head-on. Her content creates a space where truth cuts through the chatter, empowering viewers with knowledge, compassion, and agency.

Similarly, Jessica Wetz, a BC-based creator, courageously shared her medication abortion journey through a series of 39 TikTok videos . Her blend of informative and sharp-witted content helps to normalize and demystify the process, offering comfort and clarity to others facing similar experiences. For example, on April 7, 2024, she posted a video highlighting that her medication abortion cost just $36, a small price for what she called “basic human rights.” 

These voices show us that resistance isn’t always loud or dramatic. Sometimes it looks like choosing clarity over chaos, compassion over cruelty. In a digital world saturated with distraction and misinformation, truth becomes a form of care. When someone takes the time to explain, to correct, to share their story—they’re not just informing others, they’re offering solidarity. These everyday choices carve out space for understanding. They remind us that even small acts, like naming what’s real, sharing what’s helped, or pushing back when it feels safe, can cut through the noise. That’s how change begins: with courage, connection, and the refusal to look away.

However, resilience in digital spaces doesn’t mean staying plugged in 24/7. It means knowing when to speak up and when to step away. It looks like turning off the comment section to protect your peace, choosing not to engage with someone who’s not listening, or asking a trusted friend to respond on your behalf. It means taking a break—and understanding that rest is resistance, too.

This isn’t easy work. But it’s happening every day, often led by young people, queer folks, racialized communities, and those living on the margins who know exactly what’s at stake. Even when platforms fail us, we find each other. We build community. We carve out spaces for care, connection, and collective advocacy; not because it’s easy or safe, but because it’s necessary.

Resilience here means showing up when we can, logging off when we need to, and trusting that we are not in this fight alone.

Mathilde Beauvais

Mathilde Beauvais is a second-year Master of Social Work (MSW) candidate at the University of Toronto (UofT), specializing in Mental Health and Health. Mathilde is currently completing her first clinical...