Common Should Not Mean Acceptable: Why I’m Starting This Conversation
By Dr. Veronica Gillispie-Bell
I was a junior at Xavier University of Louisiana when my mother told me she needed a hysterectomy because of fibroids.
At the time, I had never heard of them. I started reading, looking for answers to questions that felt simple: What causes fibroids? Why did my mother have them? Was removing her uterus the only way to help her?
What I found left me with more questions. Here was a condition affecting so many women, yet there was still so much we did not understand.
In that moment, I decided I was going to find the cure for fibroids.
It was an ambitious promise from a college student. But behind it was something that still drives me today: women deserve answers—and care that takes their experiences seriously.
Twenty-five years later, I am an obstetrician and gynecologist. Treating fibroids has become a central part of my work. We have more treatment options, and I have had the privilege of helping women make decisions that reflect their symptoms, priorities, and plans for their lives.
Still, I hear a familiar theme across women’s health:
“I thought I just had to live with it.”
What have we learned to tolerate?
Bleeding that shapes the entire workday around bathroom access.
Pain that leads someone to cancel plans again.
Changes in sleep or concentration that leave a woman wondering why she no longer feels like herself.
Too often, women arrive for care after spending months—or years—trying to manage quietly. Sometimes they have been told their symptoms are normal. Sometimes they have watched the women in their families endure the same experiences and assumed this is simply what being a woman requires.
We need to be more careful with the word normal.
A symptom can be common and still deserve attention. A familiar experience can still interfere with someone’s ability to work, care for her family, enjoy intimacy, or feel comfortable in her own body.
Common should not mean acceptable.
That does not mean every symptom signals a serious illness or needs medication or surgery. It means the conversation should begin with curiosity: What is happening? How is it affecting your life? What would help?
Listening is part of the work
My work has taken me from individual patient conversations to efforts to improve maternal care across hospitals and communities.
In both settings, I return to the same belief: the most underused medical technology is listening.
Listening helps us understand what matters to the person in front of us. It gives context to a symptom. It creates room for someone to say, “Something has changed,” even when she does not yet have the words to explain it.
For clinicians, listening requires us to pause long enough to understand before moving toward a solution. For healthcare leaders, it means asking whether our systems make it easy for people to speak up—and whether we respond when they do.
Women should not have to tell their stories perfectly to have their concerns taken seriously.
What you can expect here
Each month, I will use this space to explore women’s health in plain language. We will talk about fibroids, perimenopause, menopause, pregnancy, and the systems and policies that shape care.
I will bring my experience as a physician, a quality improvement leader, and a woman. I will share what we know, acknowledge what we are still learning, and offer questions that can help you take part in decisions about your health.
Here are three to carry into your next appointment:
What could be contributing to what I am experiencing?
What options fit my goals and daily life?
What is our next step if the symptoms continue?
My mother’s experience started me on this path. The women I care for continue to shape it.
I hope this monthly conversation helps you feel informed, heard, and more confident asking for the care you need.
What women’s health question would you like us to explore next?



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