With menstrual cramps dismissed as “just part of being a woman” and conditions left undiagnosed for years, women continue to navigate a healthcare system built by, and for, men.
The disparity lies in how women’s pain is perceived and treated across emergency rooms, gynecology clinics, and everyday settings. The evidence points to a troubling pattern rooted not just in medical oversight, but in something older and more pervasive.
A matter of etiology
For centuries, women’s unexplained pain and emotional distress were typically diagnosed as “hysteria,” a catch-all term derived from the Greek word for uterus, implying their suffering was merely a product of their biology or imagination. While this formal diagnosis has long been retired, its shadow lingers.
Dr. Jerome Cleofas, Professor and Research Fellow at the Department of Sociology and Behavioral Sciences, traces the problem to how medical training itself was established. “[Our] medical training institutions are still very heteronormative, very paternal,” he says. Part of this, he explains, is rooted in a cultural script that reads women’s expressiveness as exaggeration.
Because women are socialized to be more vocal about their feelings, a medical professional operating within that same ideology may unconsciously question the authenticity of a woman’s pain. Men, by contrast, are conditioned to soldier through discomfort, meaning their reported pain tends to be taken at face value.
This cultural bias has long been ingrained in research itself. Women have historically been underrepresented in clinical research, in part because the possibility of pregnancy could disqualify a subject mid-study. “Because of that, we understand [the] pain of women less. [Our] understanding of pain is more for men than for women,” Cleofas says.
One consequence shows up in how heart attacks are taught and recognized. The chest-burning symptoms that dominate medical training reflect the male experience, while symptoms more common in women are overlooked. “Sometimes they would just dismiss it as post-menopausal or pre-menopausal symptoms,” he says, “… doon pala, heart attack na,” he adds.
(When in fact, it was already a heart attack.)
An unattainable antidote
Patriarchal perceptions surrounding women’s health continue to shroud the visibility of their chronic pain. Crippling discomfort is often normalized as a standard symptom of menstruation, reducing acute pain to a mere aspect of womanhood.
Bless Veladiez, a social worker for the Asia Society for Social Improvement and Sustainable Transformation, notes that cultural nomenclature often acts as a barrier to diagnosis. In her thesis on polycystic ovarian syndrome (PCOS), she found that participants took decades to seek help because their symptoms were framed as layag—a term suggesting a natural, albeit irregular, passage or flow.
“Not all women have a regular period because [the irregularity is] one of the first manifestations of their symptoms,” yet it is the very thing they are taught to ignore.
Correcting these misconceptions through reformed education is a necessary stride to improve how women’s pain is addressed. However, as systemic barriers loom large, intersecting problems brought about by financial constraints and scarce medical facilities in rural areas further magnify these obstacles, especially in third-world countries like the Philippines.
This cycle of consultations and treatments exacts not only a high financial toll, but also a tax on one’s mental and emotional welfare through hesitancy and self-trivialization. With no existing cure for many chronic gynecological illnesses such as endometriosis, adenomyosis, pelvic inflammatory disease, and uterine fibroids, remedies often exist simply to mitigate symptoms and alleviate pain, forcing women to face adverse side-effects and even additional symptoms.
These hurdles are manifestations of both capitalistic and patriarchal greed. “[When women] give more money to the pharmaceuticals, [their] body becomes a subject to pharmaceuticalization,” Cleofas emphasizes. The commercial benefit of prioritizing curative solutions for male illnesses contrasts with how pharmaceutical companies inhumanely capitalize on the lucrative nature of long-term women’s treatment.
The power behind pain
The lack of life-threatening symptoms in many women’s conditions becomes a scapegoat for the lack of urgency and care by medical practitioners. This androcentric field perpetuates callous and hostile behavior, resulting in the withdrawal from and evasion of continual treatment.
The absence of an objective pain meter has also been used as a “shield” for skepticism, leading to discrimination or even neglect. Patients like Sara* and Zef* describe how they would sometimes have to “prove” their pain to their parents, conditioning them to internalize their discomfort. “[Pain bias] extends past medical gender bias and goes toward the innate sexism that people have been [internalizing] as they grew older,” Sara* observes.
Zef* adds how it becomes an issue of one’s “mindset,” where people have been led to believe that certain symptoms or types of pain can just be disregarded. This mindset creates a filter which changes how people view distress, often dismissing it as an exaggeration or a lack of emotional control. If society views a certain demographic as less reliable, the medical system will inevitably reflect those same prejudices in diagnostics and treatment.
Veladiez, however, underscores the collective resilience of women, explaining that “They find comfort in the idea that [there are] other women who are going through the same thing.” She continues on to warmly share, “It’s very radical for them to choose to share their experiences even though it’s painful, even though it’s something that they are afraid to speak out about,” illustrating the fortitude of women to stand in solidarity and cultivate their own empowerment.
Breaking the shackles
Despite the accomplishments of modern medicine, developments in women’s healthcare will remain stagnant as males remain at the helm of priority. Triumphantly forging communities and spaces that help recognize and validate women’s conditions can combat a healthcare system that failed to progress past antiquated notions and patriarchal bounds.
Nevertheless, systemic change will require a fundamental shift that goes beyond traditional studies. This requires “un-learning” societal biases and cultural narratives. Until deeply-ingrained gendered expectations and pain dismissal gets properly addressed, we are merely treating the symptoms of a flawed system rather than curing the bias at its core.
Dismantling pain bias is reimagining care itself: to listen without prejudice, to teach without distortion, and to build a system where every concern is heard. Only by seeing pain without prejudice do we choose justice, dignity, and humanity. The question is no longer if we can break these shackles, but when we will decide that every pain felt deserves respect and relief.
*Names with asterisks (*) are pseudonyms.
This article was published in The LaSallian’s March 2026 issue. To read more, visit bit.ly/TLSMar2026.
