The Case for Gender Medicine: Built for Men, Failing Women

Today, I want to talk about gender medicine. Not as a researcher, not as a doctor, but as a patient woman who had to fight for every answer my body deserved.

This article is about shedding light on how medicine was built, who it was built for, and why so many women in midlife still feel invisible inside the system. If you’ve ever felt dismissed, unheard, or left with more questions than answers, this is for you.

Collage for the article The Case For Gender Medicine.

Jump to:

My Story
What Gender Medicine Is, and Why It Matters
What Gender Bias in Medicine Looks Like
When Women Don’t Fit the Textbook
The Bigger Problem Isn’t Bad Doctors. It’s the System They Work In
Medical Feminism vs. Gender Medicine: What’s the Difference?
What You Can Do When the System Doesn’t Help
Awareness Before Reform
More Readings

My Story

When I was younger, I used to believe that if something was wrong, you went to the doctor, explained your symptoms, and got help. Then midlife happened.

I entered perimenopause with muscle pain, anxiety, exhaustion, and a body I didn’t recognize. I left appointment after appointment with no answers, just vague reassurance or outright dismissal. Not once was hormone therapy mentioned, or any real solution to my problems. Instead, I was blamed for being overweight, sent home to relax, and walk more.

Over time, I learned that every appointment was going to be a battle I might not win. So I took matters into my own hands: reading books, scanning social media, digging through studies, until I finally discovered that HRT might be an option for me.

But accessing it was another mountain to climb. I had to “prove” I needed it through expensive and some of them unnecessary tests. When I finally received treatment, the dose was so low it barely moved the needle. Still, I was relieved to even get that far. It felt like I had finally unlocked a gate that many providers had kept closed for me.

Then came the real learning curve. I had to understand how hormones are absorbed, or how to adjust protocols when the standard approach didn’t work. Every step of progress came from my own trial and error, not medical guidance.

I am not a doctor. But being ignored and under-treated for years made me a fighter, and, frankly, a nonbeliever in the system that was supposed to care for me. I now walk into appointments prepared like I’m going to court. I have notes, I explain my symptoms, defend my choices, and sometimes educate the very doctors I was supposed to rely on. I always have a medical history with me, research papers to support my debate, and lists of things I need to check or request, so I don't forget because of my anxiety in these offices.

That’s not how care should work. And I know I’m not the only one in this position. We’re told to trust doctors because they went to medical school and we didn’t, but when we don’t get the help we need, what exactly are we supposed to do? In general, we become the victims of a system that is not only happening in the United States, but all over the world.

That’s why I’m writing this.

What Gender Medicine Is, and Why It Matters

Gender medicine studies how biological sex and sociocultural gender affect health, disease, and treatment outcomes. It challenges the outdated idea that “medicine is neutral” by pointing out what should be obvious: most of it was built around male bodies, male symptoms, and male-centered data.

That includes clinical trials, diagnostic criteria, and even basic physiology textbooks. For decades, women were excluded from research studies, both human and animal, because female hormones were seen as “too complicated.” As a result, the default patient in medical literature is still male.

When women’s symptoms don’t match the template, we’re often told we’re fine, anxious, or exaggerating.

Gender medicine doesn’t seek to divide men and women. It seeks to make care safer, more accurate, and more reflective of biological and social realities.

What Gender Bias in Medicine Looks Like

Gender bias in healthcare isn’t just subtle, it’s structural.

It shows up when your pain is dismissed as anxiety. When your symptoms don’t match the textbook, they’re labeled “atypical.” When you're told your bleeding, fatigue, or mood swings are just “part of being a woman.”

For decades, the medical system was designed around male bodies, male data, and male symptoms. Women were excluded from trials, ignored in research, and misrepresented in diagnostics. The result? A system that still doesn’t know how to read us.

This is exactly what gender medicine tries to address, not by separating care for men and women, but by making it accurate, safe, and responsive to real biological and social differences.

The Consequences Are Real

The harm of gender bias isn’t theoretical. It shows up in:

Knowledge gaps. Conditions like endometriosis, fibromyalgia, or autoimmune diseases are understudied and misunderstood.
Delayed diagnosis. Women often wait longer to be properly diagnosed, even with common conditions.
Mismatched treatments. Medications are often tested and dosed based on male physiology, leading to more side effects in women.
Avoidance of care. After being dismissed too many times, many women stop seeking help. Medical trauma is real.
Harm and death. When serious symptoms are ignored or misread, the outcomes can be catastrophic.

This isn’t a rare failure. It’s a chronic one. And it’s one of the reasons health inequity persists across every continent.

When Women Don’t Fit the Textbook

One of the biggest issues gender medicine tries to solve is this: women’s symptoms often don’t match what’s written in the medical playbook, because that playbook was written with men in mind.

Take heart attacks. The “classic” signs, crushing chest pain, arm numbness, sudden collapse, come from decades of studying heart disease in men. But women are more likely to experience nausea, jaw or back pain, shortness of breath, or extreme fatigue. These symptoms are easily dismissed as stress, indigestion, or anxiety, and many women are sent home undiagnosed. Some never return.

This disconnect isn’t limited to heart health. Women are diagnosed later across a range of conditions, from autoimmune disorders to ADHD. Their pain is more likely to be labeled emotional. Their symptoms are more likely to be second-guessed.

This isn’t about being dramatic. It’s about being misread. And don't even start me on how the perimenopause is diagnosed and how many doctors you have to see for the multiple symptoms you experience.

Gender medicine asks: What happens when women don’t follow the script? And why is the system still surprised when they don’t?

The Bigger Problem Isn’t Bad Doctors. It’s the System They Work In

I want to be clear from the beginning. This article isn’t a takedown of doctors. It’s an invitation to look at the structure they operate in. Many physicians genuinely want to help their patients. I’ve met some. But they’re working under pressure, with tight schedules, insurance limits, outdated guidelines, and many were never properly trained in women’s health, especially not in midlife care.

The problem isn’t always bad intentions. It’s inertia. Some doctors stop learning. They rely on protocols they were taught 20 years ago. They assume their degree shields them from needing to update. That complacency is part of the problem, too, but it exists inside a much larger system that still treats male bodies as the default and female ones as the variation.

Women in midlife are paying the price for that. Until we admit that, nothing changes. And women will continue to suffer while the system stays stagnant.

Medical Feminism vs. Gender Medicine: What’s the Difference?

Gender medicine focuses on filling the research and clinical gaps, bringing women into the data, tailoring treatment, recognizing differences. It’s about building better tools.

Medical feminism goes further. It asks: Who built the system? Why were women excluded for so long? And why are we still told that our pain is psychological, our symptoms are minor, or our suffering is just part of being a woman?

If gender medicine tries to fix how medicine works, medical feminism demands we ask why it was designed this way in the first place.

Both matter. And both are long overdue.

(Read More: Medical Feminism on Uncooked Truths)

What You Can Do When the System Doesn’t Help

You shouldn’t have to become a researcher, a note-taker, and a medical strategist just to be treated seriously, but here we are.

The truth is, women in midlife often have to do more than describe their symptoms. We have to prove them. That doesn’t mean you need a medical degree. It means you need to be prepared. Not perfect, just prepared.

Here’s what that looks like in real life:

Track your symptoms. Not obsessively, just enough to show patterns. Write down what’s happening, when, and how often. Vague symptoms get dismissed. Patterns get noticed.
Ask better questions. Not “Is this normal?” but “What else could this be?” or “When should I follow up if nothing improves?” These shift the conversation from passive to active.
Bring backup. If you’ve ever felt dismissed, take someone with you. Another person in the room changes how things are heard, and remembered.
Create a personal health file. Labs, notes, past treatments, even things that didn’t work. This becomes your reference point when the system doesn’t remember for you.
Trust your instincts. “Normal” labs don’t always mean you’re okay. You know what’s normal for you. If something feels off, keep pushing. You’re not being dramatic. You’re being responsible.

Is this fair? No. But it’s reality for now. And until the system catches up, being quietly prepared may be your sharpest tool.

Awareness Before Reform

I know there are good doctors out there. I know some of them read articles like this and feel uncomfortable. That’s fine. Discomfort means something’s shifting.

If you’re one of those doctors, keep going. Women need you. But don’t stop learning. And don’t assume that silence in the exam room means things are fine.

And if you’re a woman in midlife feeling dismissed, confused, or stuck in medical limbo, you’re not alone. You’re not broken. And you’re not crazy. Keep looking for the doctor who understands, knows, and cares.

The system wasn’t built for us, who are the 51% of the population of this planet. But we are still here asking better questions, demanding better care, and refusing to disappear just because the textbooks left us out.