Pale and shaky, I stumbled into my high school’s sick bay, desperately seeking relief. The nurse, with her gentle demeanor, ushered me in.
“Let’s get you home so you can rest, Jaycee,” she said kindly.
Since I started my period at 12, every month had been a battle—severe pain, excessive bleeding that soaked through my uniform, and debilitating fatigue. Yet every time I went to a doctor, I was told, “You just have bad periods” and given pain medication. My mother, Juliette, took me to countless doctors, but they offered no solutions.
By the time I was 23, the pain had become unbearable. I was struggling to keep a job because I needed a week off every month. Fed up, I demanded a referral to a gynaecologist.
At my appointment, I expected the same dismissal, but this time, something different happened. The doctor looked at me and said, “Jaycee, your period should not disrupt your life. I think you may have endometriosis.”
I burst into tears. After 11 years of suffering in silence, my pain was finally being acknowledged. A laparoscopy the following year confirmed I had stage 3 endometriosis—tissue similar to the lining of the uterus was growing outside, fusing to my ovaries and rectum.
“Your period should not disrupt your life,” the doctor had said.
The surgery provided temporary relief by removing as much tissue as possible, but the doctor explained that the tissue would continue to grow, and I would need ongoing treatment. Additionally, my fertility could be compromised.
I decided to start sharing my journey with endometriosis on Instagram, and it wasn’t long before I connected with Milli Weaver, who had founded the Endo Articles page (now the Australian Endometriosis Foundation). Milli had been sharing her own experiences to build a community for others battling the same condition.
In October 2022, Milli hosted her first morning tea for those living with endo, and I joined. The stories I heard there felt like my own. One woman shared, “My doctor misdiagnosed me with irritable bowel syndrome,” and another added, “People think I dramatize how bad my pain is.” It was a stark reminder of how misunderstood and isolated we often feel.
Milli registered Endo Articles as a charity, and together, we’ve worked to support young women living with endometriosis. As a volunteer ambassador, I help run bi-monthly coffee catch-ups in Sydney, as well as annual retreats and fertility preservation seminars across Australia. Our community has sent out over 200 comfort packs containing essentials like pyjamas, sanitary products, and skincare items to young women recovering from surgery.
Our online presence has also grown, with nearly 10,000 followers on Instagram. Through the platform, we offer support, share information, and create a space for women to connect with others who truly understand their struggles.
“I’ve needed this for such a long time,” one young woman said tearfully during one of our events. We all knew exactly how she felt.
Endometriosis affects one in nine women, yet it remains widely misunderstood. It’s not just “bad periods”—it’s a debilitating condition that can cause chronic pain, fatigue, infertility, and emotional distress. Because it’s often invisible, many women feel isolated, unsure if their experiences are valid.
Today, I am proud to offer the kind of support that I desperately needed in the past. Together, we’re breaking the stigma surrounding endometriosis and ensuring no woman has to face this battle alone.
Related topics:
RHOP Star Nneka Ihim Announces Pregnancy, Reveals Heartbreaking Loss of Twin After IVF
Park Soo-hong Donates 33 Million Won to Support Infertile Couples in Korea
Exploring the Evolving Landscape of Urology and Andrology: Insights from Professor Suks Minhas
