Women’s Health in 2026: Why We’re Still Having This Conversation

I remember a patient from when I worked in the cardiac ICU. She was a mid-40s female, obese, and an active STEMI (heart attack). She was alert, she was oriented, a little sweaty, very anxious, and having a lot of right shoulder pain. The cardiologist took her to the cath lab and immediately got to work to find the blockage and stop the heart attack.

But there was no blockage. Only beautifully patent arteries.

The woman returned to me, completely frightened. First of all, how terrifying is it to be told you are having a heart attack and be told the doctor didn't see any occluded vessels.

Second, nobody assessed what else was going on. If it hadn't been for the active changes on her EKG, she was about to get a full work up of her gallbladder.

Turns out, about 6-8 weeks before the event, her husband had lost his job. They were a single income household now and she didn't earn enough to cover the mortgage. They had two children, one was almost college age and played sports. She also was in a sandwich generation, taking care of her parents' home care needs and medical transportation.

She had a lot on her plate.

Turns out, she was experiencing takotsubo, or, as I lovingly pronounce it, "Taco Soup". Otherwise known has broken heart syndrome.

This is not all that uncommon. It's a Japanese name for an octopus trap, because that's what it looks like. The left lower portion of your heart (the left ventricle) becomes larger and could trap a really small octopus (in theory, I've never heard of an octopus that small). It's called broken heart syndrome because it's most often seen with people going through grief - or middle aged women going through a lot of stress.

Women's health isn't just a specialty, it's half the population.

This is a great example of how women's health is treated differently, and that's not necessarily a good thing.

We've made progress but there is still work to be done.

Women’s health is often treated like a specialty topic. Something separate. Something optional. Something you get to after the “real” medicine is addressed.

In other words, how women present differently isn't considered until everything else is ruled out.

Women’s health isn’t niche care. It’s foundational healthcare for half the population.

As we move into 2026, it’s tempting to believe we’ve made enough progress. We talk about women’s health more openly than we used to. We see more headlines, more awareness campaigns, more panels and podcasts. But awareness and equity are not the same thing. Visibility does not automatically translate into better care, better outcomes, or better systems.

This isn’t about dismissing progress. It’s about being honest about where the gaps still are and who continues to fall into them.

It Still Matters that We've Made Progress

To be fair, there has been movement.

We talk more openly about mental health, reproductive health. I'm sure we all are in or know someone who is an unofficial card carrying member of the We Do Not Care Club.

We acknowledge that women experience disease differently and that sex-based differences exist in symptoms, progression, and treatment response. More women are included in research than in decades past, and more providers are at least aware that bias exists.

That matters. Progress deserves to be named and applauded.

But without accountability, this awareness can create a false sense of completion. In science and medicine, questions and answers are always evolving and women's health is not excluded from that.

Identifying the Gaps

Despite increased awareness, many women still experience delayed diagnoses, dismissed symptoms, and fragmented care. A 2025 study of 900 women found some concerning results:

• 93% reported feeling dismissed

• 23% felt their provider made an assumption about them without asking

• 19% felt their provider didn't believe them.

• Half of these women experienced a delayed diagnosis and another half had worsening symptoms

Women are more likely to be told their symptoms are stress-related, anxiety-driven, or “normal.”

Pain is minimized.

Fatigue is brushed aside.

Symptoms that don’t fit clean diagnostic boxes are treated as inconveniences instead of warning signs.

Research still defaults to male bodies as the baseline. Treatment guidelines often fail to reflect how conditions present in women and care models are still largely built around acute events, not chronic management or long-term recovery.

These gaps don’t always show up on billboards. More often, they are quietly found in missed diagnoses, prolonged suffering, and patients who stop advocating because they’re tired of not being heard.

Exposing the Cracks in the System

Few areas highlight these failures more clearly than survivorship.

Whether it’s cancer, chronic illness, or mental health recovery, women are often discharged from treatment without a clear roadmap for the next steps. The assumption seems to be that survival equals resolution.

It doesn’t.

Survivorship comes with lingering physical symptoms, emotional fallout, financial stress, and identity shifts. Yet follow-up care is frequently unstructured, underfunded, or entirely absent. I have personally had countless appointments where I've had to initiate the follow-up conversation. Mental health support is offered inconsistently, if at all. Coordination between specialties is rare.

Women are left managing complex, long-term needs in systems designed for short-term intervention. I mean, hello!? Have you met Peri, yet??

Who Feels These Gaps the Most

These shortcomings don’t affect all women equally.

Women with chronic illness, cancer survivors, caregivers, women navigating mental health alongside physical disease - these are the groups that often carry multiple layers of vulnerability.

Bias compounds.

Access gaps widen.

Fatigue sets in.

When care requires constant self-advocacy, the system favors those with time, resources, and energy. That leaves many women behind—not because they didn’t try hard enough, but because the system wasn’t built to support them long-term.

What's Next

If women’s health is going to truly improve, the next phase of change has to move beyond awareness.

We need care models that prioritize continuity in addition to crisis management. Chronic care plans that are standard, not optional. Mental health support integrated into medical care instead of treated as an afterthought. Research that reflects real bodies and real lives.

We need to acknowledge the uniqueness of a woman's biological difference in medicine.

We also need provider education that addresses bias honestly and system reforms that make it easier to listen than dismiss.

This isn’t about adding more appointments or more checklists. It’s about building systems that acknowledge complexity and support patients beyond the point of diagnosis.

Women’s Health Is Always Relevant

Women’s health isn’t a trend, a moment, or a niche interest. It’s infrastructure. And infrastructure has to be maintained, improved, and rebuilt when it no longer serves the people who rely on it.

2026 doesn’t need louder conversations. It needs better systems.

Women’s health isn’t asking for special treatment. It’s asking for care that actually lasts.

About the Author

Stephanie Pilkinton, RN, MSN, FNP-C, PMHNP-BC

Founder of Sweet Tea & Science | Nurse Practitioner | Writer | Wellness Advocate

Stephanie is a dual-certified nurse practitioner with a passion for blending evidence-based medicine with everyday life. She believes wellness should feel approachable, not overwhelming — and that a little Southern comfort and curiosity go a long way.

Follow her journey and join the conversation at Sweet Tea & Science.