Me & My Girls is a platform for unfiltered stories from women navigating their reproductive health journeys. In this edition, we sit with Ope to discuss her experience living with endometriosis—a chronic condition that affects an estimated 1 in 10 women of reproductive age globally. Ope opens up about the early warning signs, years of misdiagnoses, the emotional toll, and how she’s learning to live with a condition that often goes unseen but never unfelt.
When Endometriosis Symptoms First Appeared
Can you take us back to when you first noticed something wasn’t quite right with your body? What symptoms made you pay attention?
Ope: There’s no specific day I can point to, but I know it started back in secondary school. Every time my period came, the pain was so intense that my mum had to pick me up from school. At one point, I was even admitted to the hospital because of it. It got so bad I had to stop running or walking long distances—just moving around triggered severe stomach aches.
Fast forward to 2020, the pain escalated. I couldn’t stand upright anymore—I had to walk hunched over. That’s when my parents decided it was time to get it checked. Our family doctor initially suspected appendicitis and ordered a CT scan. But the results were inconclusive. Even he couldn’t explain what was going on.
My dad, who’s also a medical doctor, wasn’t living with us at the time, so I sent him the scan. He referred me to a gynecologist friend of his nearby. That doctor told me it was an ovarian cyst and wanted to schedule surgery immediately—either later that day or the next morning.
Wait—just like that?
Ope: Exactly! I was like, “Excuse me? Surgery? Already?” I didn’t feel confident in that diagnosis, so I left. I ended up seeing about four other gynecologists before I finally met one who diagnosed me with endometriosis.
That must have been such a frustrating and confusing experience.
Ope: It was. There was a constant fear—like if no one knows what’s wrong with me, where do I even begin? I had multiple CT scans just to be sure. And each time I visited a clinic, I got hit with the same questions: “How old are you?” “Do you have a boyfriend?” Then the unsolicited advice would come—“You should get married quickly and have kids.”
I remember thinking, “How is that helpful when I don’t even know what’s wrong with me?” I wasn’t about to get pregnant just because I was experiencing stomach pain.
Eventually, I met a professor who’s also a gynecologist. He explained what endometriosis was in a way that finally made sense. That was the first time I felt confident in the diagnosis and started to explore treatment options.
What Endometriosis Pain Feels Like: Explaining the Unseen Struggle
How would you rate the pain you experienced during your menstrual cycle on a scale of 1 to 10? Was it consistent every cycle? How did you describe it to people who didn’t understand?
Ope: When I’m in pain, you can usually tell without me saying a word. It often starts out mild, but then it escalates quickly. I’ve had moments where I was on the floor crying, vomiting, or just laughing out loud from the sheer madness of it—so much so that the people around me got confused. Sometimes I talk myself through the pain, just to stay calm.
With friends and family, it’s tricky. I tend to mask it because seeing their reactions can be overwhelming. My husband once saw me in the middle of an episode and started crying himself. That kind of emotional response makes me want to hide the full extent of what I’m going through.
Was this during a time when you had to balance school or work?
Ope: Yes. This was around the lockdown period, and I was preparing for law school exams from home. In a strange way, being at home gave me the chance to ‘get used to’ the pain and figure out how to cope. Thankfully, I’ve never had a public breakdown at work—I was fortunate to go through the worst of it while I was still studying remotely.
That said, the pain has reduced over time since my diagnosis. It’s not as severe now as it used to be.
Studies say it can take up to eight years for women to get an endometriosis diagnosis. What was your experience like in terms of that waiting period?
Ope: I believe I’ve had endometriosis since secondary school, but I didn’t know it. I just thought I had painful periods—though, looking back, it was definitely not normal to be hospitalized because of menstrual pain. I clearly remember a time when I was just taking a walk, and the pain shot through my hips and lower abdomen. That kind of discomfort doesn’t come from a “normal” period.
The turning point was 2020. The pain became so different—so much worse—that I knew something had changed. Because I was at home during lockdown, I had the time and space to focus on finding answers.
I have to say, though, that my pain was never dismissed. Maybe it’s because my family doctor already knew my history, or because my dad is a doctor and referred me to professionals he tr
Once you got diagnosed, I imagine you started researching ways to ease the process. Were there any myths or cultural beliefs people shared that frustrated you?
Ope: Oh yes. One that stands out was from the radiologist during one of my CT scans. He gave me unsolicited advice about how I should get married quickly and have children—because endometriosis can affect fertility. Some doctors said similar things, like “Just have your kids early, then remove your womb so you can have peace of mind.”
I remember thinking, “So I should marry someone I’m not even sure about just because of this diagnosis?” That logic made no sense to me. I just wanted a solution, not panic-driven advice about my reproductive future.
What a Flare-Up Feels Like: A Bad Day with Endometriosis
Can you walk us through what a bad day with endometriosis looks like? Not necessarily the pain itself, but how the day unfolds?
Ope: Honestly, I’ve given up trying to find a pattern. The pain feels random—sometimes it comes on when I’m just walking down the street. It usually starts as a tingling sensation in my lower abdomen that slowly intensifies. There are days when even pressing my stomach feels like touching an open wound. It’s like there’s a sore inside me, and someone’s squeezing it over and over again.
If it’s bearable, I use a hot water bottle. Sometimes it helps, other times it feels like adding heat to a burn. On the worst days, I take painkillers and try to sleep through it. That’s really all I can do.
Endometriosis and Fertility: Navigating Relationships and Family Planning
Let’s talk relationships. How has endometriosis affected your romantic and platonic connections? And how do you approach fertility and family planning now?
Ope: I definitely try to mask the pain, even around close friends and family. After a while, you don’t want to seem like “the girl who always has stomach pain.” I just rough it sometimes—smile through the pain and keep it moving.
I’ve been lucky to have a great support system. Before I got married, my husband already knew about my condition and the potential impact on fertility. Funny enough, I used to be really big on the idea of having kids. I wanted a bunch! But after my diagnosis, I slowly started to release that pressure.
Now, I feel like if I don’t end up carrying a child, I’ll be okay. I can adopt, or I can be the rich auntie who spoils her nieces and nephews. I’ve accepted all possibilities, and thankfully, so has my partner. My mum definitely can’t hear me say that though—it’s not something Nigerian parents want to hear (laughs).
Yeah, African parents don’t like hearing that you’re considering alternatives. To them, it’s like you’re being negative.
Ope: Exactly! But for me, I’m just trying to be realistic and stay open-minded. I still believe I’ll have kids—fingers crossed. But I’m not obsessing over it anymore.
Are you currently planning for the future, or is that a later step? Would you say your endometriosis diagnosis changed your approach to conception?
Ope: Right now, we’re not actively trying. My husband and I are in a long-distance phase, so our plan is to enjoy being together for a while before we start trying. Honestly, even without endometriosis, that would still be the plan.
That said, we’ve had conversations about our options and next steps. We gave ourselves a two-year timeline from marriage to childbearing, but we’re not waiting until the last minute to start thinking about it. We’ll likely see a doctor to explore our chances ahead of time.
Right now, my focus is really just on being healthy and living as pain-free a life as possible.
Yeah, African parents don’t like hearing that you’re considering alternatives. To them, it’s like you’re being negative.
Ope: Exactly! But for me, I’m just trying to be realistic and stay open-minded. I still believe I’ll have kids—fingers crossed. But I’m not obsessing over it anymore.
Are you currently planning for the future, or is that a later step? Would you say your endometriosis diagnosis changed your approach to conception?
Ope: Right now, we’re not actively trying. My husband and I are in a long-distance phase, so our plan is to enjoy being together for a while before we start trying. Honestly, even without endometriosis, that would still be the plan.
That said, we’ve had conversations about our options and next steps. We gave ourselves a two-year timeline from marriage to childbearing, but we’re not waiting until the last minute to start thinking about it. We’ll likely see a doctor to explore our chances ahead of time.
Right now, my focus is really just on being healthy and living as pain-free a life as possible.
The Emotional Toll of Endometriosis: Mental Health, Isolation, and Inner Strength
Living with chronic pain can be isolating. You’ve talked about masking the pain around others—how has this affected your mental health? Have you come to terms with the condition, or do you still feel burdened by it?
Ope: That’s a great question—and honestly, I still ask myself that sometimes. I think I’ve just accepted it. Endometriosis has become a personal issue for me—something I carry quietly. Unless it’s really bad, the only person I usually tell is my husband.
I could be in a room with ten people and not say a word. I’m not sure if it’s because I don’t want to be seen as dramatic, or if it’s the fear that people won’t understand. There’s this inner voice that tells me, “You should be used to this by now.” After four years, I’ve developed that mindset. I’m not sure if it’s healthy or not—but it’s where I am.
Physically, I’ve had to make major adjustments. I can’t go on walks or jog. I tried once, and the pain afterwards was unbearable. Not from sore muscles, but from my stomach. It was like my body was punishing me for trying. So now I just stretch—that’s the only form of movement my body seems to tolerate.
Since your diagnosis, have you found enough information and support? Did you discover any communities that helped you understand or manage endometriosis?
Ope: At the time of my diagnosis, I’d never heard the word endometriosis before. A few months after, I came across a video by Zainab Balogun, who shared her own story. That helped so much—just seeing someone else go through it made me feel less alone.
I posted on my WhatsApp status asking if anyone knew someone with endometriosis, and someone connected me to a woman who eventually became a close friend. We’re still in touch, and she’s been such a huge help—sharing treatments, advice, and just being someone who gets it.
Today, there are a lot more resources online. Back in 2020, no one around me knew what it was. But now, if I mention it in a group of ten people, at least two or three will know what I’m talking about. That visibility has made a big difference.
Advice for Women with Endometriosis
What advice would you give to a young Nigerian woman who suspects she might have endometriosis? Looking back, what do you wish you had known sooner?
Ope: First of all, it’s okay to get multiple medical opinions. If you’re not confident in one doctor’s diagnosis—or if you feel like they’re not listening—go somewhere else. It’s your body. You know what you’re feeling.
I saw so many gynecologists before I finally got the right diagnosis. Even now, I still visit different doctors occasionally just to confirm I’m on the right path. There’s no shame in that.
Second, pain is not normal. We need to stop brushing it off like it’s just part of being a woman. If you’re constantly in pain during your period—missing school, work, or being admitted to the hospital—please speak to someone. I wish I had done that much earlier.
At one point, I was hesitant to even post about endometriosis online. I worried what people might think—like maybe I was being dramatic or attention-seeking. But now? I own it. I have endometriosis. And if you have it too, you’re not alone. We’re sisters in pain. And there’s strength in that.
How can friends and family better support someone with endometriosis? What simple things make a difference?
Ope: One thing that really soothes my heart is when people show genuine curiosity. I have friends who send me articles or research updates on endometriosis when they come across them. It might seem small, but it means a lot—it tells me they’re thinking about me.
My husband does the same thing. He’s always looking for something—anything—that might ease my pain. That kind of thoughtfulness goes a long way. You don’t have to fix the problem. Just remembering that I’m dealing with something tough, and showing up in small ways, is enough.
If you could change one thing about how endometriosis is understood or treated in our society, what would it be?
Ope: We need to stop telling newly diagnosed women to “just have kids and remove your womb.” That’s such a terrifying thing to hear when you’re still trying to process what endometriosis even is. I was 22 when someone told me that, and I remember thinking, What do you mean I should go and get married and have a baby now?
Healthcare professionals need to lead with education, not fear. Help us understand what’s happening. Talk to us about treatment options, management plans, and long-term care. Let that be the first step—not panic and womb removal.
Thank you so much, Ope. You shared your experience with so much honesty and strength. It’s inspiring to see how you show up for yourself every day, without letting this condition define or limit you.
Ope: Thank you. At this point, I don’t have any other option (laughs). I’ve cried, I’ve struggled—but now it’s like, This is the card I’ve been dealt. How do I move forward from here? That’s my approach to life, and to endometriosis.
