Why are so many endometriosis patients forced to go on reality TV to get healthcare?

Last year, my mum finally had a hysterectomy due to her endometriosis after years of disabling pain. In the months since, it’s become clear that I will likely be following. But, the care on offer for me so far has consisted of a suggestion to use the contraceptive pill.

The kicker? I had avoided acknowledging my symptoms for months, knowing the realities of seeking support.

During the course of 2025, I have watched countless competition reality TV shows, ranging from Race Across the World to Hell’s Kitchen. Last week, during the final of The Fortune Hotel, finalist Briony spoke about her participation being related to her need to self-fund fertility care in relation to her endometriosis, and described how she was not being supported to access in the NHS.

This is not the first time this year we have heard something similar from a competition participant in the UK. Following her banishment during season 3 of The Traitors in January, Elen spoke to the press about being on a four-year waiting list for surgery following ten years of debilitating pain and gaslighting from her doctors, including being told she had a low pain tolerance.

What is the UK getting so wrong about endometriosis?

For people with endometriosis or seeking care for their menstrual health, a comment like that experienced by Elen will not come as a shock. In 2024, Endometriosis UK surveyed over four thousand people, finding that 78% of those who later received a diagnosis had been told by one or more doctors that they were making a ‘fuss about nothing’ or similar, with many having their symptom severity questioned.

Research on medical misogyny is still in its infancy, relatively speaking. However, it is a tale as old as time for women and other people of marginalised genders. The Women and Equalities Committee published a report into reproductive health conditions in December. Their findings echoed similar sentiments when it came to dismissal of symptoms. They also looked into the impact of delays in treatment, both in progressive symptoms and on an individual’s mental health.

The journey to diagnosis for endometriosis continues to be an average of eight years and 10 months. And, that statistic is rising, rather than falling. In the past few years, this has been attributed to the pandemic. However, it doesn’t change the fact that lack of treatment is not for lack of trying by patients. The same Endometriosis UK survey found almost half of respondents visited their GP ten or more times with symptoms, and 70% at least five times.

Endometriosis and similar menstrual conditions are still not taken seriously. This is clear not only from the attitudes of professionals but also through the lack of funding, intervention or support. But when endometriosis is represented on television and other media, the reality is crystal clear: people with endometriosis are desperate to be heard.

Financial factors: why might TV be the best route?

For many seeking treatment, private healthcare becomes the only route. Waiting lists simply get longer for everything from initial gynaecological appointments to surgeries. This was the case for my mum: as a family, we had to borrow the £14,000 it cost to get her surgery sooner. Her symptoms were so debilitating she could barely move, impacting every aspect of her life.

This, of course, impacted her ability to work. The lack of funding for endometriosis at large feels even more cruel as the government continues to insist disabled people must be in employment. And, just for the kicker, if we don’t work – because we can’t – we’re seen as scroungers. As part of written evidence for the government report into reproductive health conditions, charity Bloody Good Period highlighted employment as a barrier to treatment and diagnosis due to inability to take leave or discuss their conditions openly.

Given these compounding financial factors, it’s no wonder why people with endometriosis are turning to reality television for desperately needed funds. Unfortunately, these competition shows often have extremely active elements during their missions and challenges. It is an extremely dystopian sign of the times that individuals are better off putting themselves in taxing situations that could cause more harm to their bodies in order to get basic healthcare.

What private healthcare?

In The Fortune Hotel, the final clips revealed the winners giving £5000 to Briony and her mum to contribute to her treatment. Whilst it should have felt touching, it only troubled me further that this is even necessary in the first place.

Going on TV for any kind of healthcare should be seen as extremely concerning. But, surely it’s time to ask: how and why is the system going so wrong for people of marginalised genders, and where can the situation even go from here?

Ultimately, I hope someone from the government has been trying to enjoy some evening television and been reminded of the failures they are inflicting on endless people with menstrual health conditions – because we’re reminded every single day.

Featured image via Unsplash/Stephen Andrews