For over 13 years, I’ve been navigating the uncharted waters of severe endometriosis—a disease that silently wreaked havoc on my body and spirit. For 11 of those years, it went undiagnosed, dismissed as normal, imagined, or even a mental health issue. My symptoms, though debilitating, were consistently minimized. I was told my pain was just a “bad period,” my fatigue was burnout, and my inflammation was stress. Even with compassionate healthcare providers, there was a pervasive undercurrent of uncertainty—an unspoken acknowledgment that women's health is underfunded, under-researched, and misunderstood.
This post is both a deeply personal reflection on my journey and a call to action for better understanding and advocacy for those battling endometriosis and other under recognized women’s health issues.
The Early Years: Learning to Second-Guess Myself
My relationship with my body has always been intuitive. As a yoga teacher and practitioner, I’ve spent years cultivating an intimate awareness of my physical and emotional states. But when endometriosis began to rear its head, the messages from my body—sharp pelvic pain, crushing fatigue, relentless bloating, and a heaviness I couldn’t name—were ignored not by me, but by most I sought help from. This is not a direct criticism of my health care providers, as they are all great humans, but a criticism of a system that is not set up to listen to women or to recognize this disease.
Doctor after doctor ran tests, shrugged at the results, and reassured me that everything looked “normal.” The pain was chalked up to stress. The fatigue? Depression, perhaps. I was told to “relax more,” “exercise,” and “not overthink it.” For years, I carried the heavy weight of self-doubt, wondering if I was simply too sensitive, too dramatic, too…wrong. I was told it must be mental health, or psychosomatic pain and told that anti-depressants were the only solution.
A Disease Left Untreated
Endometriosis is not just a “bad period.” It is a systemic, chronic disease where tissue similar to the lining of the uterus grows outside of it, causing inflammation, scarring, and often debilitating pain. Yet for a condition that affects 1 in 10 women, the journey to diagnosis is harrowingly long—an average of 7-10 years. Mine took even longer. With symptoms beginning as a teenager, although manageable until 13 years ago after I had my youngest son. The system is not designed to listen to women. Women's pain is often downplayed or ignored entirely unless fertility is at stake. And even then, the care offered is often incomplete, temporary, or harmful in the long term. For those like me who were not trying to conceive, my concerns seemed even less urgent.
Endometriosis was finally suggested as a diagnosis (thank you Dr. Gaiser from the bottom of my heart for listening and helping me understand what I was living with) the relief of having a name for my suffering was overshadowed by the stark reality: I was now years behind on effective care. Even though I now had a name to put to my debilitating symptoms, I still did not have an understanding of how to manage it. And worse yet, I was put on a lengthy waitlist to see a gynaecologist.
Holding the Disease at Bay
For years, I relied on yoga, meditation, movement, and dietary changes to manage my symptoms. Yoga became more than a practice; it was a lifeline. Gentle sequences helped ease my pain on the worst days, and restorative poses calmed my nervous system when I felt like I was drowning in discomfort.
Meditation offered a way to connect with my body in a kinder, more compassionate way, even when it felt like my body was betraying me. And diet changes—eliminating inflammatory foods and prioritizing nourishing ones—helped reduce some of the swelling and pain that had become constant companions.
For a while, these tools kept the disease from taking over my life. But endometriosis is relentless. Despite my best efforts, the disease caught up with me.
When the Body Breaks Down
The past few years have been some of the hardest. The fatigue became more than exhaustion; it became an all-encompassing fog that left me unable to function. The pain evolved from a dull ache to a sharp, unrelenting force that stole my ability to move freely. Inflammation became my body’s default state, robbing me of the vitality I had worked so hard to preserve.
Pharmaceutical treatments were a labyrinth of side effects and false promises. Hormonal therapies wreaked havoc on my mental health, while pain medications dulled the edge but offered no true relief. The trade-offs often felt like I was swapping one problem for another.
Finding Community in the Chaos
During the darkest moments, I turned to the internet. What I found was heartbreaking and validating all at once: a global community of women whose stories mirrored my own. Women who had been failed by the same medical system. Women who were dismissed, gaslit, and left to manage this insidious disease on their own.
These women became my teachers and allies. Together, we shared tips, supported one another through surgeries, and commiserated over the lack of progress in the world of women’s health. Their stories were hauntingly familiar—a testament to a system that prioritizes patriarchal needs over women's health and well-being.
The Reality of Women’s Health Care
Endometriosis is just one example of how women’s health is deprioritized. Despite its prevalence (as many as 1 in 10 women as noted in research), research funding for endometriosis is staggeringly low. Treatments are outdated, diagnostics are invasive and often inconclusive, and medical education on the disease is woefully inadequate.
Many of us are left managing a disease that healthcare providers barely understand. Worse, many women are prescribed medications not designed for long-term use, leading to additional health complications on top of the original disease. It’s a system that fails us at every turn.
Reclaiming My Power
Despite the challenges, I’ve learned to reclaim my power. The journey has taught me to trust my body again, to listen to the whispers it sends me before they turn into screams. Yoga and mindfulness remain my anchors, not as a cure, but as a way to find peace in the storm.
I’ve also learned the power of advocacy—not just for myself, but for others. Sharing my story has become a way to break the silence surrounding endometriosis, to shed light on the systemic failures that keep so many women suffering in the dark. I began to seek out options for care that would meet my needs, and to help to restore a quality of life that I and so many others deserve.
A Call to Action
To those of you reading this who are battling endometriosis or another underdiagnosed condition: I see you. Your pain is valid, even when others fail to acknowledge it. You are not alone. Please reach out, I am here to listen, to cry with you, and to help you feel empowered through your journey.
To healthcare providers: We need you to listen. Women’s health deserves more attention, funding, and respect. The time for dismissing women’s symptoms as “normal” is over.
To the world at large: It’s time to prioritize women’s health, not as an afterthought, but as a critical part of our collective well-being.
Moving Forward
Endometriosis has stolen so much from me, but it has also taught me profound lessons about resilience, advocacy, and the importance of connection. I was able to find a surgeon who not only listened to me, and believed me, but also advocates for those suffering from this terrible disease. Him, and his team have given me hope for the first time in years. I will share more about my surgical journey as I am ready. But the experience has renewed hope for a future where women no longer have to fight so hard to be heard.
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