PAIN and PREJUDICE

Women are more likely to suffer chronic pain out less likely to seek medical help. When they do, they are often dismissed. Now, a number of organisations are working to close the gender pain gap.

- Alexandra English

Madison Griffiths thought her best friend was lying when she said she’d orgasmed during sex. “I got a bit frustrated, like, ‘Cut the bullshit, this is me you’re talking to!’ ” she says now, laughing at the memory. Madison thought sex was meant to be unpleasant for women – it was meant to hurt, even. “I’d always had painful sex as a teenager, and I never once considered that to be not normal,” she says.

That conversation proved the catalyst for what would turn out to be a long and distressing journey into the source of her pain. “It took eight years for me to be diagnosed with vaginismus,” says the 30-year-old author (her book, Tissue, was published by Ultimo Press last year). It’s a condition in which the pelvic floor muscles involuntarily spasm in response to vaginal penetration, meaning tampons, pap smears and penetrative sex can be excruciating and even impossible. (Fans of Sex Education will remember Tanya Reynolds’ character, Lily, dealing with the same issue: “ My vagina’s like a Venus flytrap,” she says.)

Like much of women’s pain, little is known about vaginismus, which meant Griffiths’ quest for answers was met with scepticism and even inappropriate testing. “I was readily dismissed at every corner. One gynaecologist suggested a pap smear, and I was like, ‘I absolutely cannot do that,’” says Griffiths, who eventually discovered that treatment involves physical and psychological therapy.

Eight years is a long time to be asking for help, but a long diagnostic journey is an unfortunate reality for many women. In fact, it’s so common that it has a name: the gender pain gap. The phenomenon falls under the umbrella of medical misogyny and refers to how a woman’s pain is more likely to be poorly understood and mistreated because of gender biases.