Being a woman is not an easy task—and even with all the jokes, memes, and “wine o’clock” humor, sometimes it just downright sucks.

We’re expected to be everything, everywhere, all at once. The multitasking expectations alone could be a full-time Olympic sport: full-time worker, full-time mother, full-time chef, maid, therapist, scheduler, dog walker, nurse, and the CEO of “Did you check the fridge before asking me where it is?”

And heaven forbid we get sick. Because then it’s all about “pushing through it,” “staying strong,” and “not making a big deal.” Apparently, the world stops spinning if mom does. Spoiler: it doesn’t, but it sure feels like it might.

The Medical Double Standard

Recently, I was chatting with a friend about how differently men and women are treated when it comes to medical care. It’s something most of us know in our gut, but if you actually Google it, it’s right there in black and white:

“Women often receive different medical treatment than men due to historically male-biased medical research and implicit gender bias, leading to misdiagnosis, inadequate care, and worse outcomes, particularly in conditions like heart attacks and pain management.”

How messed up is that?

The sad truth is—it’s not some obscure study in a dusty medical journal. It’s everyday life for so many women. I’ve heard it from friends, family, coworkers, and total strangers in the waiting room. One woman told me her doctor actually said, “Do you know what the first symptom of a heart attack in women is? Death.”

Dark humor aside… that’s horrifying.

Why It Happens (and Why It’s Infuriating)

Yes, heart attacks can look different in women. We don’t always have the dramatic “Hollywood clutch-your-chest-and-fall-over” moment. Symptoms can be subtle—fatigue, nausea, jaw pain, shortness of breath. But those subtleties often work against us.

Because when a woman walks into a clinic saying she’s tired, in pain, or something “feels off,” the default answer too often is:

Chest pain? Anxiety.
Heart palpitations? Anxiety.
Headaches? Anxiety.
Chronic fatigue, pain, dizziness, or bloating? You guessed it—anxiety.

It’s like there’s a script somewhere that every provider got in medical school titled “How to Explain Away Every Female Symptom in One Word.”

And before you assume I’m only talking about male doctors—nope. Some of the worst offenders I’ve dealt with have been women. Gasp! 😱 I know, it feels like betrayal. But it happens. It’s as if we’ve all been conditioned, women included, to believe that we’re just overreacting, too emotional, or “stressed out.”

Sure, anxiety can cause physical symptoms. But it shouldn’t be the automatic explanation for every single thing.

A Little History Lesson (That’ll Make You Sigh Deeply)

This pattern isn’t new—it’s woven into medical history like a bad family heirloom. Between the 1930s and 1950s, lobotomies were performed on women far more frequently than men. Around 60% of all American lobotomy patients were women.

Why? Because women were often institutionalized for “emotional outbursts,” “immorality,” or—wait for it—“being difficult.” Basically, if a woman had an opinion or a bad day, she might just end up getting a lobotomy.

So when a modern-day provider tells us to “calm down” or “stop being so emotional,” it’s just a polished-up version of the same old narrative. Different century, same energy.

My Own Experience (AKA The Medical Rollercoaster No One Asked For)

Now, let me be clear—I do have anxiety. I take medication for it and I’m not ashamed of that. But that doesn’t mean every symptom I have stems from it.

Over the past couple of years, I’ve struggled with some pretty concerning issues: severe heart palpitations, swelling, and a 30-pound weight gain in under six months. I was constantly tired, uncomfortable, and feeling worse by the day. The answer I got? You guessed it: “You’re just stressed.”

And my personal favorite: “Your labs look normal.”

It’s like a magic phrase that’s supposed to make you instantly better. Spoiler: it doesn’t.

I gave up for a while. I was exhausted—physically, emotionally, and mentally. But after hitting my breaking point, I decided to try again. I found a new clinic, and this time, a provider who actually listened (I know, shocking). She validated my symptoms, told me this wasn’t normal, and took the time to really look at the big picture.

And guess what? We tried a new approach, and within one week, I lost nine pounds of fluid. Nine. Pounds. Of. Fluid. (My bathroom and I became very close during that time.) My heart palpitations eased, my feet fit into shoes again, and for the first time in over a year, I felt hopeful.

That experience reminded me just how powerful it is to feel heard.

The Emotional Toll

Here’s the part people don’t talk about enough: the emotional exhaustion that comes from constantly having to advocate for yourself.

You start to question everything. Am I overreacting? Am I making this up? Is this really all in my head? You almost gaslight yourself because you’ve been dismissed so many times. And that self-doubt can be just as damaging as the physical symptoms.

It’s isolating, too. Because when you try to explain it to others, sometimes you get that polite smile, the “have you tried yoga?” suggestion, or the ever-helpful “maybe you just need more rest.” (Sure, Susan, I’ll just nap my way out of heart palpitations.)

Advocate, Always

The truth is, men face medical bias too, but historically, women have drawn the shorter straw—again and again.

So if something doesn’t feel right, fight for yourself. Ask questions. Get second, third, or fourth opinions if you need to. Don’t let “normal labs” or “it’s just anxiety” be the end of the conversation. You know your body better than anyone.

Being a woman is already hard enough. We shouldn’t also have to fight to be believed.

So here’s your reminder, from one tired-but-still-fighting woman to another:
You’re not crazy. You’re not overreacting. And you deserve to be heard, respected, and cared for properly.

Now, go drink some water, schedule that second opinion, and remember—you are not alone in this fight. 💕