This is a firsthand account submitted through SWHR’s Share Your Story portal, as part of SWHR’s Women’s Health Perspective series.
For nearly a year, I lived with a constant sense that something wasn’t right with my body. I was experiencing ongoing vaginal irritation — burning, discomfort, discharge — symptoms that mimicked a yeast infection. So, I did what we’re taught to do: I went to the doctor.
Actually, I went to several.
Each gynecologist gave me the same diagnosis: recurrent yeast infections or possibly contact dermatitis. Yet, every yeast culture came back negative. I even underwent allergy patch testing, which ruled out sensitivities as the cause. Despite this, the discomfort persisted. The suggested treatments — antifungals, steroid creams, “watchful waiting” — offered no relief.
Meanwhile, I still had to show up — to school, to work, to daily life. On the outside, I looked fine. But on the inside, I was in pain every day. Even wearing jeans or walking became unbearable. Still, no one could see what I was going through. It was invisible — and incredibly isolating.
It wasn’t until I met a doctor who truly listened, and who was up to date on the latest research in women’s reproductive health, that things finally started to change.
After reviewing my symptoms and conducting microscopic swabs, she found something previous doctors had overlooked: an overgrowth of Lactobacillus, the bacteria considered “good” in the vaginal microbiome. What I had was cytolytic vaginosis — a lesser-known, often misunderstood condition where the vaginal environment becomes too acidic due to an overgrowth of these normally beneficial bacteria.
For many in the medical community, this diagnosis is controversial. It challenges the widespread assumption that “more good bacteria is always better.” As a result, cytolytic vaginosis is frequently dismissed, even though its symptoms can be just as disruptive and painful as more recognized infections.
This doctor didn’t dismiss it. She put me on a treatment plan involving sodium bicarbonate (yes — baking soda) to help raise and balance my vaginal pH. Over time, and with regular monitoring, my symptoms began to ease. Eventually, they disappeared altogether.
Finally, I had answers. But it shouldn’t have taken this long.
This experience revealed a painful truth: women’s health — especially reproductive health — is too often under-researched, underfunded, and misunderstood. That lack of investment doesn’t just delay diagnoses; it leads to real, lived suffering.
Cytolytic vaginosis isn’t rare — it’s just rarely recognized. And that’s not because patients aren’t reporting it. It’s because the system isn’t equipped to hear them.
I also learned how vital it is to advocate for yourself. Throughout this journey, I turned to resources like other women’s health platforms that helped me understand what was happening in my body. I read studies, joined forums, and realized how many other women were experiencing similar symptoms without answers.
What I experienced is part of a larger pattern in women’s health: symptoms minimized, pain dismissed, and legitimate conditions left in the shadows — simply because they haven’t yet been adequately studied or openly talked about.
We need to talk about reproductive health without shame. We need medical systems and social spaces that recognize that invisible illness is still illness and that pain doesn’t need to be visible to be valid.
According to the Gates Foundation, just 4% of all biopharma research and development spending goes toward female-specific conditions — a stunningly low figure considering how many people are affected.
We need better funding for women’s health — not just for life-threatening diseases, but for chronic conditions that quietly erode quality of life.
I’m sharing this story not only to raise awareness, but to say: if you’re experiencing recurring symptoms that don’t respond to typical treatments, don’t be afraid to keep asking questions. Keep advocating for yourself.