Why We Need to Tell New Stories About Women’s Health

Let’s face it.

We need to tell new stories about women’s health.

What stories, you ask?

Good question.

Today’s post serves more as a thought experiment than a definitive answer.

For most of my life, I’ve been taught to prioritize certainty and speak only on subjects I have extensive experience with or some degree of authority.

Sound familiar?

Yet, I’ve started taking a page out of poets’ books.

Poets are the kings and queens of asking questions and turning feelings and stories and thoughts and opinions inside out, upside down and sideways.

I got the idea from the queen of questions, Rebecca Solnit, a writer and essayist most recently about the climate crisis. Her article, “If you want to win the popular imagination, you change the game: why we need new stories on climate,” sparked the same question about women’s health and sent me down a rabbit hole. She makes more than a few excellent points, and I highly encourage you to read the article in full.

What are the barriers to telling new women’s health stories?

One question stood out in particular.

What keeps us from seeing an issue or solution clearly?

In other words, what’s getting in the way of forward momentum regarding something like the climate crisis or women’s health?

It’s the people who hold too tightly to the old ways. The old stories. The ones who love to say, “But this is how it’s always been.”

It’s the kinds of people telling the stories. The people with platforms. The ones whose needs may not be as immediate. The ones who have access to insurance. The ones who don’t worry about an ambulance trip that might break the bank, who live within minutes of the nearest medical center. The ones who can afford the telehealth subscriptions.

It’s the stories that lack context. How do we know where we’re going if we don’t know where we’ve been? How do we know what’s working and who it’s working for? Why do certain populations of women experience worse health outcomes?

It’s the news stories that don’t make it into search for lack of keywords. I see them, and I’m sure you do, too, what with Google Alerts and being invested in the space. But what about the women who need to read them most?

It’s the stories of “premature defeat.” The lack of investment in female founders. The research gap in women’s health. The lack of healthcare access in developing countries. Solnit notes that “apocalyptic thinking is due to another narrative failure: the inability to imagine a world different from the one we currently inhabit.” It’s a premise that finds its roots in doom and gloom and scarcity.

On what we lack instead of what we have and can move toward.

Now, I will say in the realm of women’s health, we’re pretty darn good at imagining a new future. Because we’re so, so tired of the one we inhabit.

But we cannot let the stories of defeat, of negativity, overshadow our momentum. Of what’s possible.

Actions will not change until the stories we tell do.

How do we tell new stories about women’s health?

Here’s where we get to the questions and some circular thinking. The part where I’ve forewarned you I don’t have a nice, neat wrap-up.

And that’s ok.

It’s good to feel uncomfortable sometimes. It’s also good not to come to the table you’ve just arrived at with a plethora of solutions.

We need to listen. To hypothesize. To experiment to see what works and what doesn’t work.

One such hypothesis I’ve been turning upside down combines keyword-based articles with journalistic storytelling.

Sometimes I see nonprofits creating story-based posts, and product companies creating only how-to guides or explainers about a certain condition. Or, when product companies do tell stories, they don’t get as much traction, or it becomes a splash that fizzles out.

What if we merged them?

Instead of pulling straight from our Google Sheets list of top keywords (yes, I have one, too) and creating our nice and neat outlines, we pause and put on our journalist hats.

We find a new angle by exploring Reddit threads. We reach out to our networks and find personal stories. We see what’s been done before and how we can truly do it differently.

Search and algorithms are part of the content creation pie but not the whole pie.

The places I’ve seen accomplish such an integration are mostly bigger healthcare companies and nonprofits. In some cases, they have their own news and content teams. Yet, these aren’t the articles that pop up when I search for types of breast cancer treatment, for instance.

Do they need to?

I don’t know.

Women searching that keyphrase may want the Mayo listicle or the Cleveland Clinic explanation. Or, just maybe, they also want stories of women who had the same questions they did. The stories of women faced with similar decisions, who felt unmoored and a bit lost.

Stories that make them feel a little less alone and a little more empowered.

I did a quick experiment and typed “global women’s health advocacy” and “reproductive rights advocacy” into Google's news section and was astonished at how few stories popped up. A few more came up when I switched back to the All tab, but there were more calls for story submissions than actual stories.

Where are the solutions?

Where’s the personal touch?

What are we moving toward?

There are plenty of femtech companies at the ready. But we must change how we tell the stories to get more of them into gear.

I will say the story submission forms made me scratch my head. I’d feel uncomfortable sending my story out into the void, personally. I’d rather have a one-on-one conversation with someone first and make sure I could be a managing partner in its telling.

But how do you find these personal stories about women’s health?

Another thought.

But Meghan, someone (perhaps you) might argue.

Personal stories don’t grow on trees.

Even fewer women feel comfortable sharing said stories about their health.

Stigma and all that.

Don’t they know?

Here’s the thing. I think this is all part of changing the stories we tell and the way we tell them.

Yes, women might be hesitant.

But we need to start somewhere.

We can’t fall into the “but that’s just how it’s always been” trap, of which this is one in disguise.

Do you need to use their real name if they’re uncomfortable? No. Can you still tell a compelling story? Absolutely. Or, you can start with your own story. Or the story of someone on your team. A friend, a family member (per HIPAA and waivers and all that good stuff).

Then, go from there.

It may take more time to finesse the article or post. It may take more back and forth as you’re now responsible for how you portray someone’s health journey.

But at the end of the day, it’s well worth the effort.

To tell the stories of women who may worry about going in for a mammogram.

To tell the stories of women who found an answer to their chronic pain.

To tell the stories of healthcare providers developing ingenious solutions to reach more people in low-income communities.

And to tell them in a way that the people who need them most can find them. In a way that helps more women feel seen and less alone. In a way that advances women’s health by creating an emotional connection to the topic.

I’m not talking about sporadic testimonial paragraphs, either. We need investigated, nuanced stories told with a solutions focus that paints a comprehensive picture of a person. A story with an arc that hooks you from the start, even if it’s about vaginal atrophy or going in for a colonoscopy.

So, what does the future hold?

To be clear, I know these types of stories exist. I don’t live under a rock (though I did for quite some time, but that's a story for another day).

I come from a realm that focuses on SEO-laden content that often skirts stories for the sake of ranking and efficiency.

To be clear, those types of content are also valuable.

You might be catching on that there’s a lot of nuance in the world of content.

I’m talking about what we can add—not take away.

What we can shift.

The true beauty of writing, of creating content, is that you get to make the rules.

You get to experiment and try new things to see what works and doesn't work.

We won't know until we try. It's a big ship to turn, this is true.

But it's more than worth the effort.

I know more than a few women who would thank you.