The GYNECOLOGICAL violence project
CW: Gynecology/Violence
For this photo series, I sourced multiple stories of people who underwent a negative experience with a gynecologist or medical institution that practices gynecology. I then created a photo series based on these experiences, where a specific object was highlighted in each story to represent the discomfort or violence that took place in the medical examination space, in order to shed light onto this important subject that is rarely discussed publicly. This photo series was a very emotional process for me, and I'm excited to be able to share these images and stories with you all.
Featured on @curatedbygirls
Gloves
What surprised and disappointed me the most about childbirth was the complete lack of respect for the mother. I felt like a piece of meat. And I have since met many, many women who claim this same experience with hospitalized childbirth. Of course, no one tells you about this before you give birth. It is only after the fact that we, as women, realize how little we mean to the medical corps. A piece of meat. I was belittled, humiliated, ignored, and condescended to on an hourly basis. My pains were not real. My feelings were irrelevant. My allergies were all in my mind. My questions were left unanswered. My concerns trivial. In short, I did not exist. Yes, I have examples. Yes, I have proof. However, these are enough to fill a book. And this small paragraph only touches the surface. One month before I gave birth, my doctor knew I would be a candidate for a cesarean section. Of course, everyone knew…but me. Is it really that useless to inform the mother? The most horrifying event for me was when the surgical nurse “forgot” to wear surgical gloves during the procedure. After my little girl was born, I became increasingly, desperately ill. I was placed in quarantine and I almost died from multiple infections invading my body. The infections took a long time to cure. The horror did not. I was left, for many years with debilitating pain. And the psychological side effects were those of pure trauma.
No one apologized. No one cared. One day, I may forgive. But I will never, ever “forget”.
SWABS
I was 14 or 15 when I went to my first gynecology appt. My periods would last 19 days and were incredibly painful, so my mom made me an appointment at the closest office to our house. Before I was examined the doctor asked me about my sexual history — I didn’t have one. Yet, she asked me about 20 times if I was sexually active. It was as if she was trying to catch me in a lie. Then, when the exam started she completely stopped speaking to me. Even though she knew this was my first gynecology appt, she began the vaginal exam without explaining what she was doing. The next thing I knew I felt intense pain and pressure as she inserted a speculum and gave me a Pap smear. It wasn’t until about 4 years later when I learned I was way too young to have an unwarranted pap. Even though I was already teary eye, expressed that I was in pain, and was bleeding. The doctor, once again not explaining what she was doing to me, inserted a large wand into my vagina in order to do an internal ultrasound. Then, she simply walked away while I was actively crying, and said a nurse would be in soon. I laid there for 20 minutes until the pain subsided enough for me to walk out.
PEELS
When you have an ovarian tumor, the size of a grapefruit, growing inside of you, you kind of just know it. To get the medical corps to believe you, is another story. After all, we are just women, and hysterical, right? It always amazes me how the medical people just don’t trust that a woman can feel what she feels and this could be very valid?
Well, after six months of debilitating back pain, I begged my gynecologist to prescribe an ultra-sound. “You probably just have fibroid tumors. No rush”, she said. And that was that. But rush I did. After months of pain, I was ready to meet the source.
And I will never forget the look of dismay….no panic... on the technician’s face when she announced that I had an unidentifiable, abdominal mass the size of a grapefruit, growing inside of me. Her fear was very palpable as was the look of fear on my gynecologist’s face when she was informed.
Then there was a big rush to get me a surgeon. The surgeon did his own evaluation of the ultra-sound and then ordered a scan. Back in his office, after two weeks, he announced that there was really no rush as he was going on vacation and this could wait. And wait, I did.
By the time I was operated, the grapefruit had turned in to a melon and was well on its way to being a full-grown pumpkin. The surgery was four hours long and they removed an ovary, but with no guarantees of having removed the entire mass. I was subsequently operated two more times with a full hysterectomy and a bowel resection before they could declare me clean. And I still had back pain from all of these surgeries.
I was 19 when I had my first gynecological appointment. My periods had always been long, overly frequent, and excruciating—sometimes lasting 2 weeks to a whole month and crippling me with intense abdominal pain—since I started menstruating at 11 years old. The irregularity and pain finally convinced me to book an appointment to see a gynecologist to find out what, if anything, was wrong. My doctor did his best to be gentle during my pelvic exam as it was my first time, but he eventually diagnosed me with Polycystic Ovary Syndrome (PCOS) with a potential Metabolic Syndrome. Immediately, we began discussing treatment without much discussion on what exactly we’d be treating. So it wasn’t until hours later when, armed with my new birth control prescription for hormone therapy, that I realized he that did not tell me anything about PCOS. At first, this lack of information didn’t bother me because I was given the impression that PCOS would not affect my health much as we found it extremely early in my life, but the more I thought about it the more uncomfortable I became with not knowing how PCOS would affect me. So, I began researching it online and discovered from a recent Mayo Clinic article that having PCOS put me at a higher risk of developing ovarian cysts, uterine cancer, and Type 2 Diabetes—more than that, I found out that the main complication of PCOS in women was infertility. The heartbreak and grief I felt was indescribable—over the next weeks I spiraled into a deep, severe depression and identity crisis because while I logically knew that my worth as a person, as a woman, was not tied to my uterus and ability to have children, it devastated me to learn that my female body couldn’t perform biologically. Moreover, I became enraged when I realized that my doctor did not tell me any of this—he left me to discover this information on my own and it destroyed my health that year. I confronted him about purposefully leaving me uneducated about my diagnosis and his look of surprise when I brought up all of my research outraged me even more—did he think that I wasn’t going to research my diagnosis? Did he think that I’d be comfortable leaving my health decisions up to him? Did he think that I wouldn’t demand answers when I found out about his negligence? Since then I’ve taken an almost obsessive role in my gynecological health so that no doctor, nurse, or ultra-sound technician would leave me uninformed about my health again.
baseball
About a year ago I felt something hard inside my vagina. I couldn’t see it, but I could tell it was there. Obviously, this freaked me out, especially because my mom had just been diagnosed with breast cancer. I made an appointment with my obgyn, but she wasn’t in town, so I went to see another doctor in the office. When this other doctor came in, she first of all could not stop talking about her two sons and their baseball game, which for me was a little strange - this woman was raising some all-American boys which surprised me for an obgyn. My other doctor was very different from this. My first reaction was to be pleasantly surprised at how this woman had defied my expectations. She seemed conservative for an ob, but ok! I explained my problem to her, even the part about my mom. It was then that this doctor looked at me in the face, and asked me why I was touching myself. Like I did something wrong. I was stunned into silence - I could not believe an obgyn was criticizing the fact that I’m aware of what’s going on in my body. Then she examined me, and told me she did not see anything so I just be making it up. I protested, saying I am very attuned to these things and I know what I am feeling. She dismissed me, called my delusional - that I was just paranoid because of my mom’s cancer diagnosis - and left the exam room. I called the hospital that day and explained what had happened - a doctor had dismissed my real medical complaints as hysterics related to my mom’s diagnosis - and got another appointment with my real doctor, free of charge. My doctor found two vaginal cysts when she examined me. While they are harmless and typically go away on their own, they were very obvious to her. I had always been cautioned to go to a woman ob because women’s health issues are sometimes dismissed by medical professionals. I couldn’t believe that this happened with a woman doctor in an office I’d be happily going to for years. It made me sad to think that even some women in medicine are not looking out for other women.
ACTIVE
During my second year in college I went to student health for what I assumed was a kidney infection - classic symptoms: lower back pain, bloody urine, difficulty/pain urinating, prior UTIs, etc. To the resident nurse at student health, I explained my symptoms and suggested the possibility of a kidney infection. She was generally pretty rude, doubted me, and made sure I knew it. Per standard questions, she had to ask about my recent sexual partners. I replied that I was in a monogamous relationship with a man. At this point, she deliberately turns around to look me in the eye and say "Are you sure it's monogamous?" Slightly stunned, but with complete assurance I replied, "Yes." To which, she half-heartedly stifled a scoff and replied, "I think you better take an STI test and have a talk with your 'monogamous' boyfriend because there's no way he isn't cheating on you" and then walked out! I was so stunned I didn't know what to do. Not only was I not being treated for my kidney infection, the resident nurse hadn't listened to any of my symptoms, assumed I was having unsafe sex, and explicitly stated that I was being cheated on. Needless to say, I have refused to be seen by her since. This experience definitely impacted my future gynecology visits. And it also informed my perceptions on seeking treatment relating to my sexual health. I left worried my infection would escalate and felt confused and angry about being slut/sex-shamed and treated like a silly little girl.
mom
I went to my doctor to get an IUD inserted in 2016, in the wake of the 2016 election outcome. My normal doctor had stopped inserting IUDs, so I was referred to a new doctor. Initially, she was very kind and comforting. I was really anxious about the procedure, having never had any form of penetrative sex, and she reassured me that we could stop or pause the procedure at any point if I got too nervous. Relieved, I agreed to start the procedure. The first part of an IUD insertion requires the doctor to feel the walls of the vagina with her fingers. Almost as soon as she inserted her fingers into my vagina, I began to panic and asked her to stop. Instantly, her demeanor changed, and she harshly told me that if I couldn’t handle even that, we would have to stop the procedure completely. Embarrassed and even more nervous, I gripped my mom’s hand and let the doctor continue the procedure. However, once she began inserting the speculum into my vagina, I again panicked, and asked her to stop. She ignored me, and ignored me again when I begged her to stop. I was gripping my mother’s hand so tightly, she had to take off her rings. Eventually, I gave up on asking her to stop, and focused on trying to relax, so that the procedure could be done as quickly as possible. Though I do not regret getting an IUD, the disrespect I felt while in such a vulnerable position was extremely upsetting to me, and gave me a deep fear of going to the gynecologist in the future.
hymen
I had something called a septate hymen, and it made it very painful to use tampons. I realized there was something maybe not exactly right so googled and found some article about different types of hymens (I didn't know that was a thing beforehand) and thought "Okay, I think this what I have". So I went to see a gynecologist in Geneva (so, educated, expensive, and a supposedly progressive medical environment) who had good recommendations for working with young women specifically. She examined me and said yes, I did have a septate hymen. I explained it was very painful to use tampons (like, tears) and so I wanted to do something about it. I was maybe 14-15 at the time, and I wasn't planning to have sex anytime soon but was also worried it would really hurt when I eventually did. She told me I could wait until it tore by itself, or I could have a small surgical procedure to make it like a normal hymen. After a few more tries with tampons, at our next appointment I decided I would rather have the procedure done. And so she told me "Okay we can do that, but just so you know, once we do this procedure you'll lose your virginity/ tu ne seras plus vierge".
----- what?
She said well, we'll be getting rid of most of your hymen so you won't be a virgin anymore.
And I just… I was so surprised. I remember thinking - this woman is wrong, but she seems to know her stuff? I'll just ignore this comment and go through with the surgery.
I’m really grateful that I had learned enough about the topic and felt secure enough to know that a) your hymen has nothing to do with your virginity and b) different people with different sexual orientations define "losing their virginity" (the term itself is horrendous) in different ways and also c) your sexuality and supposed "virginity" are ideas that people have very different views on, and I didn't have to accept or recognize hers.
I wish that she could have explained it differently. Because just not mentioning it, in my case, would have been fine. I'd get this procedure, things would be easier, my parents would be happy I'm healthy and support me, and I had insurance and the ability to get this done safely. And any thoughts about virginity wouldn't cross my mind. But in someone else's case, maybe things wouldn't have been so easy. Maybe her family would have cared. I wish she could have said something like "Okay, everything looks good for the procedure. Just so you know, some people see tearing the hymen as a bad thing. They have certain ideas about virginity, and may even check your hymen in future to enforce their own ideas about women's sexuality and their ideas of virginity. If you think this could be your case let's talk about it - but medically, this is a procedure which can go completely fine and has no impact on your sexuality,
angry
When I was 11 years old, my gynecologist sexually assaulted me on the medical exam table of her office, although I did not have the words to describe it that way at the time.
I had recently had my first period, and the pain from my menstrual cramps were unbearable, so I went in to seek medical help. After telling me to lie down fully naked on the medical cold exam table, she performed a pelvic exam on me without any warning, and as I was crying and begging her to stop, she forced a tampon inside me to “show me how it’s done”. This was the first person who ever penetrated my body, and the psychological effects of that exam still last to this today.
20 minutes later, another girl a few years older than me would walk into that same room, likely for another unwarranted pelvic exam. I hope she is okay, because I am still angry.
When I was 15, it happened again on that same table. I still did not have the words to describe it. My gynecologist was a woman. I was told women did not rape other women.
As I sat down in the medical exam chair again, she stroked my legs. When I said I still could not use tampons because of the discomfort they caused, she offered to break my hymen and “take my virginity for me”. I left the office furious, and vowed to never go back. Something was not right.
In 2018, many people started talking about their experiences with gynecological violence online. It was my third year in college when I saw a video about it, and I cried. I finally had the words to talk about it.
On Facebook, my former gynecologist is now retired. She has 2 grandchildren. I hope they are okay, because I am still angry.