When “everything looks fine” doesn't feel fine

More than one in three women in the United States says a healthcare provider has minimized or dismissed her symptoms.

I wish that number surprised me.

According to the 2026 Gallup-Pivotal Women's Health Survey, 34% of women reported having their symptoms dismissed or minimized by a healthcare provider.¹ About the same share — 33% — said they had been misdiagnosed or couldn't get a diagnosis at all. And 42% said they've had to speak up or advocate for their own health.

I understand that last number particularly well.

Because I've been there. Twice.

When you know something isn't right — and you're dismissed

There have been two separate times in my life when I knew something was seriously wrong with my body.

Both times, I sought medical help. Both times, I saw doctor after doctor. And both times, I was repeatedly dismissed before eventually finding someone who listened, investigated further, and discovered that there really was something wrong.

Both situations ultimately resulted in major surgery.

Those experiences stay with you.

Not because every unexplained symptom means there is a serious underlying condition. It doesn't. And not because physicians don't care — the overwhelming majority of healthcare professionals entered their fields because they genuinely want to help people.

But medicine has limitations.

Appointments are short. Healthcare providers are managing enormous patient loads. Insurance influences what can be ordered, when it can be ordered, and sometimes what can be discussed in the time available.

And sometimes the pieces simply don't fit neatly into the expected box.

When that happens, a patient can leave an appointment with normal test results and still know: something isn't right.

Why “normal” lab results don't always mean nothing is wrong

This is an important distinction.

A normal lab result means that the particular marker tested fell within that laboratory's reference range at that particular moment. It doesn't automatically mean that every system in the body is functioning optimally, nor does it explain every symptom someone may be experiencing.

I've written before about what my own genes taught me about cholesterol — a number on a page that looked one way and meant something rather different once I understood the context behind it.

Labs matter. Imaging matters. Physical exams matter. Medical expertise matters.

But so does the patient's story.

Sometimes the most useful information isn't contained in one test result. It's in the pattern that begins to emerge when someone has enough time to tell the whole story.

The real cost of not being heard by your doctor

The Gallup-Pivotal survey suggests that these experiences are far from unusual.

Half of U.S. women — 51% — reported at least one of these negative healthcare experiences in the previous five years. Thirty-one percent said they couldn't get the answers they needed. One-quarter received conflicting medical recommendations.

And nearly half — 47% — waited three months or longer for their most recent diagnosis. Twenty-two percent waited a year or more.

Those delays don't exist in a vacuum.

Health problems affect whether someone can work, care for children or aging parents, exercise, cook, sleep, maintain relationships, participate in their community, or simply get through an ordinary Tuesday without organizing their entire day around how they feel.

There is also another cost that is harder to measure.

When you repeatedly tell someone that something feels wrong and repeatedly hear that everything looks fine, eventually you can begin questioning yourself.

Sometimes the hardest part of advocating for yourself is continuing to trust what you're experiencing after you've been told several times that nothing appears to be wrong.

Why I became a Nutritional Therapy Practitioner

My experiences within the healthcare system are part of what eventually led me to Nutritional Therapy.

Not because I wanted to replace doctors. I don't.

There are things physicians, specialists, surgeons, physical therapists, psychologists, pharmacists, dietitians and other licensed healthcare professionals can do that are completely outside my scope as a Nutritional Therapy Practitioner. Good healthcare works better when those disciplines complement one another rather than compete.

What I wanted was to work in a space where I had the time to listen.

As an NTP, I can spend time looking at someone's food, digestion, sleep, stress, movement, lifestyle, symptoms, medications, supplements, health history and laboratory results when they're available.

I can look for patterns. I can ask questions. I can help someone understand how nutrition and lifestyle may be supporting, or working against, what their body is trying to do — whether that's chronic inflammation or something else entirely.

And sometimes my role is simply to say:

That matters too.

How to advocate for yourself — without doing it alone

One finding from the survey keeps coming back to me: 42% of women said they've had to speak up or advocate for their own health.

We tell people to “advocate for yourself” all the time.

And yes — learning to ask questions, request clarification, keep records, seek another opinion when necessary, and understand your own health history is incredibly valuable.

But advocacy requires someone on the other side who is willing to listen.

Sometimes people also need help figuring out what questions to ask.

Part of my work is helping clients become better observers of their own bodies and better participants in their healthcare.

Not fearful of every symptom. Not convinced that every abnormality represents disease. Just informed, curious and willing to ask another question when something doesn't add up.

I will listen

My own experiences changed the way I sit across from another person when they're telling me about their health.

I know what it feels like to leave an appointment without an answer.

I know what it feels like to wonder whether maybe you're imagining how bad something feels.

And I know what it feels like when someone finally says: “Let's look into this.”

That doesn't mean I will always have the answer. In fact, sometimes the most responsible thing I can do is recognize that I don't.

I can't promise my clients that I'll always know what is wrong. Sometimes I won't. That's not my role.

But I can promise that when you tell me something doesn't feel right, I will listen.

And sometimes, being heard is where better healthcare begins.