Doctors told me my excruciating pelvic pain was ‘part of being a woman’. Here’s how I finally got a diagnosis that impacts millions – and got my life back

When the pain first crept into Adelaide Poschelk’s life, she was still a teenager.

By her late teens, she had noticed a strange pattern. In the week before her period, a simple workout would tip her into agony.

‘If I exercised in that week before my period, I would just be in excruciating pain,’ Adelaide, now 32, told Daily Mail.

‘I used to describe it as though it felt like someone was inside my body clawing downwards. It was 11-out-of-10 pain. I would get cold shivers. It was a whole-body experience.’

It was not limited to workouts. That pre-period week, and then her actual period, were brutal.

‘It was that week, week and a half, before my period and then during my period that was awful. There was some relief after my period, but there wasn’t much downtime in between.’

The pain dictated everything. She started organising her life around her cycle and the fear of what her body might do.

‘I worked in an all-male environment and I didn’t want to say, “I can’t come in because of period pain.” So I would sit there and suffer through it. Socially, I would get anxious because I’d think, ‘If I go out and the pain hits, I’m stuck. It was easier to stay home.”‘

Because it came in waves and could not be seen, others rarely understood how bad it really was.

Adelaide’s early doctor appointments failed to give her solutions. Instead of answers, she ran into walls.

‘One GP said, “Period pain is just part of being a woman. The only thing you can do is go on the pill.” That was it. No investigation into why my pain was so extreme.’

Another doctor made her feel even smaller for asking questions about dietary or lifestyle changes that might help.

‘I asked if there was anything I could do to reduce inflammation, and he said, “Don’t talk to me about nutrition – it doesn’t exist.” I left feeling really resigned, like maybe there really was nothing else I could do.’

Even a ‘leading’ gynaecologist dismissed her concerns, suggesting she just get an IUD.

‘She told me, “Stop fighting mother nature, sweetie. Get the Mirena.” She said it over and over, even though I kept saying I didn’t want it. I felt like she just wasn’t listening.’

Many of the appointments were rushed and surface-level, with little questioning or exploration. Complex symptoms were treated as a simple, black-and-white issue. By then, Adelaide had spent about four years in serious pain without a diagnosis.

‘You go to these appointments seeking support, which takes a lot of motivation, and you come out feeling like you are the problem. I did start to think, “Maybe this is just how I have to live.”‘

Talking about pelvic pain is uncomfortable for most women, and Adelaide was no different.

It wasn’t that she was shy – it was that the topic itself felt private, awkward and difficult to bring up, especially when she had been repeatedly made to feel like it was ‘normal’.

‘At first I didn’t really talk about it because it felt uncomfortable. Period pain isn’t something people openly discuss, and after being dismissed so many times, I didn’t want to sound dramatic,’ she said.

But as the pain grew and answers weren’t forthcoming, Adelaide realised that staying silent wasn’t working. Before she approached anyone else, she spent hours researching on her own.

‘I remember reading everything I could find online and thinking, “Someone else must be experiencing this,”‘ she said.

What she found shocked her. Story after story about endometriosis matched what she had been living with for years.

The timing. The exercise-related pain in the week before her period. The cold shivers. The exhaustion. The heaviness.

‘It was like reading my own symptoms back to me,’ she recalled. ‘I thought, “Why has nobody mentioned this before?”‘

This was a turning point. It gave her clarity, language and confidence. And it pushed her to open conversations she once tried to avoid.

‘It wasn’t easy to bring it up, because it is a personal topic, but I started asking people, “Have you ever had these symptoms? Do you know anyone with endometriosis? Who did you see?”‘ she said.

Those conversations, prompted by her own research and willingness to push through discomfort, helped her realise she wasn’t alone, and ultimately helped her advocate for proper care.

Armed with information and a clearer sense of what she needed, Adelaide went to a new doctor.

‘I said, “This has been my history and I want a referral to a gynaecologist to get checked for endometriosis.” He said, “Of course.” It felt completely different from the other appointments. I didn’t have to argue.’

The gynaecologist reviewed her history and agreed her symptoms were highly consistent with endometriosis. This time, the conversation was practical and direct.

‘They recommended laparoscopic [keyhole] surgery. I felt a huge sense of relief. After years of being told it was just period pain, someone was finally taking it seriously.’

A laparoscopy is a minimally invasive surgery used to diagnose and treat endometriosis.

Small incisions are made in the abdomen and a thin camera is inserted to locate and remove endometrial lesions.

Most people recover within one to two weeks, and it is currently the most reliable way to confirm an endometriosis diagnosis.

By the time her laparoscopy was recommended, Adelaide was ready for the answers.

‘I wasn’t nervous. I was open to it. I felt like, this is the best thing for me right now and I’m going to do everything I can around it to support myself.’

The surgery made a real difference.

‘The heaviness of my menstrual cycle reduced a lot. The pain wasn’t as severe or as frequent. Once the initial inflammation settled over the first couple of periods, I realised, “I’m not going back to the level of pain I had before.”‘

But surgery was only one part of the change. At the same time, Adelaide had started exploring a different type of care.

After years of being told ‘just take the pill’ or ‘get the Mirena’, Adelaide decided to try something that aligned more with her instincts.

She booked an appointment with a naturopath.

In Australia, naturopaths are not AHPRA registered, so experts recommend choosing degree-qualified practitioners, ideally with a Bachelor of Health Science (Naturopathy) and membership with recognised associations such as ANTA or the Naturopaths and Herbalists Association of Australia.

A good naturopath will take a full case history, ask detailed questions and work alongside medical care where appropriate.

That is exactly what Adelaide experienced.

‘She asked everything. My diet, my lifestyle, my symptoms, my medical history, my stress. I remember thinking, “Oh, my God, this is what an in-depth appointment is.” It was not one-size-fits-all. I felt understood for the first time.’

The emotional impact was huge.

‘It took away so much stress. I finally felt like I wasn’t crazy, that this was a real, serious issue and there were things I could do to support myself. It motivated me so much.’

Her naturopath prescribed herbal liquid extracts, including cramp bark to help with pain and yarrow to support heavy bleeding, and recommended removing gluten for a period of time while supporting her gut health.

‘The herbs taste awful,’ she laughs, ‘but they were so powerful. Within a few weeks my pain reduced, my flow was lighter and my energy levels improved.’

Removing gluten had a surprisingly big effect, too.

‘Within about two to three weeks, I noticed improved energy and less pain. I hadn’t realised I had an intolerance and was constantly inflaming my body. Once we addressed and healed my gut health, I was able to tolerate gluten again, but that period of removing it made me see how much it had been affecting me.’

Even after surgery and holistic support, there was a lingering fear around exercise.

‘When my symptoms were at their worst, exercising in that week before my period would set off extreme pain. It almost felt like I had a bit of PTSD around it. I was really nervous to move my body in case it triggered everything again.’

It took years of gradual healing, both physically and mentally, for that fear to lift.

‘I live on the Gold Coast. Everyone is out walking and running. For a long time, I would think, “I might sit this one out.” A few years after surgery and naturopathic support, I realised I was exercising without that fear. That was huge for me.’

Her everyday life shifted, too.

‘I started feeling like I could actually plan things again. I wasn’t constantly thinking, “Maybe I should stay at home, just in case.” I felt more in control and a lot more secure in my day-to-day life.’

The confidence she built through this process also flowed into other areas, including later when she advocated for herself during the birth of her son by seeking multiple opinions and making informed choices she felt comfortable with.

Being dismissed, undertaking her own research, and ultimately finding the right practitioners not only transformed Adelaide’s health – it altered the course of her career.

‘That first naturopath appointment lit something up in me. I thought, “What if I could help someone else avoid years of feeling dismissed? That would be incredible.”‘

Adelaide went on to study naturopathy and now runs Begin Again, where she supports clients through programs like her Gut Reset, focused on gut health, detoxification and hormone support.

‘If a young woman reading this is going through similar symptoms, I want her to know she is not alone,’ Adelaide says.

‘If something doesn’t sit right, or a practitioner is telling you, “This is just how it is”, but it does not feel right for you, there are always other options. Get another opinion. Ask more questions. There are people who will listen and there is help out there.’