Words by Jo Barry
I was just 10 years old when period pain first knocked me sideways. Away on school camp, I thought I was dying as pain tore through my insides. I had no idea what a period even was, let alone that the agony I was experiencing wasn’t normal. This moment set the stage for years of suffering in silence. It’s a story far too common among women with endometriosis.
Every month became a nightmare of heavy bleeding for over a week, passing large clots, doubling up on tampons and pads, and changing them constantly. The pain was unbearable, yet somehow, I convinced myself this was normal.
For years, I kept quiet about it all. When I did speak up, doctors patted me on the head with “it’s just bad period pain, love” and sent me on my way. By 19, I could barely function during my periods and finally got my endometriosis diagnosis.
But even then, I had no idea what it actually meant. No one properly explained this disease that would go on to shape my entire life. It wasn’t just cramps; it was a condition that would affect everything from my career to my fertility.
The most isolating part of endo isn’t just the physical pain, it’s feeling like no one understands. For years, I pushed through while my work, relationships, and happiness all took a backseat.
The hard truth? Women’s health is still treated as an afterthought. It took years to get proper treatment, with countless surgeries from laparoscopies to a radical hysterectomy. All along, I was made to feel like my pain was “part of being a woman.”
Endometriosis doesn’t politely stay in your uterus, it attacks your ovaries and fallopian tubes and can spread to organs like your bladder and bowel. It causes scar tissue, chronic pain and, for many, fertility issues. It made me feel like I was falling apart from the inside out.
For me, endometriosis didn’t just mean physical pain, it meant watching my dream of becoming a mum slip away. The fertility struggles were devastating – IVF, surgeries, hormone treatments, all leading nowhere.
I kept fighting, hoping I could overcome my own body’s rebellion. It wasn’t until my final surgery, a radical hysterectomy, that I had to finally let go of that particular dream.
Oddly enough, it was during my darkest days that I found my purpose. Through years of pain, heat was my constant companion, my only reliable relief. I’d walk around with hot water bottles strapped to my middle, trying to function through the fog of pain.
That’s when I realised what I needed to create. rae, my wearable heat device, was born from my own desperate need for something better, something that could provide instant, portable relief. Something I wished I’d had through all those years of suffering.
rae isn’t just a product to me; it’s my way of turning my painful journey into something positive. It’s how I’m making sense of all those years of suffering by creating something that helps others who feel just as lost and unheard as I once did.
Women’s health deserves to be prioritised, not sidelined. For too long, conditions like endometriosis have been dismissed as “just period problems” or “women’s issues.”
We need more research, awareness, and empathy from our doctors, workplaces, and society. We need to stop normalising period pain that keeps you bedridden or requires heavy painkillers to function.
I want every woman reading this to know you’re not alone. If you’re fighting through the pain, no one seems to understand; if your period is hijacking your life, there’s a community here for you. Your pain is real. Your struggle matters. And its high time the medical world caught up to that reality.
