I’ve always been driven by a sense that things should be efficient and sensible— I suppose growing up on a university campus, I acquired that idealistic streak.
During my freshman year of college at Stanford University, I was procrastinating in the dorm library one day and picked up a book with a chapter about a Swiss woman doctor who had discovered a method of male contraception in the 1930’s. At the time a lot of my women friends were having horrible experiences with female contraception. I thought, “If there’s something better, why aren’t we doing it?” It seemed crazy that other options weren’t being developed.
I was hooked. Enrolling in a small seminar taught by Carl Djerassi (who was already famous for his role in developing the first oral contraceptive for women), I researched and wrote a paper on male contraceptive scientific research, with teammates exploring the sociological and other aspects of why there hadn’t been any reproductive health innovation for men in over 100 years. My digging turned up a total of 8 approaches that were known to work, but not being pursued.
It was believed there was “no public demand” for new male contraceptive options, but it turned out to be quite the opposite! The class paper I produced turned into a white paper, then a series of short pieces in women’s and men’s magazines, then a book chapter. In response to a 3/4-page article in Ms. Magazine, I received over 200 letters — and we’re talking stamps and envelopes at the time— from readers interested in knowing more. That’s when I knew times had changed and the new generation of men really was interested.
What started as procrastination became a career, starting an advocacy nonprofit and then, with a few bumps and detours along the way, a foundation (Parsemus Foundation) to further contraceptive development and reproductive health research.
My interest in the development of male contraceptives, and the issues with female hormonal contraceptives, started my interest in this area. However, it was my mom’s breast cancer experience in 2006 that revealed how much still needs to be done to improve hormonal health outcomes for women in general. What really got me riled up was how the breast cancer treatments being proposed sounded logical, but were the exact opposite of what the data showed actually improves survival.
I’ve never been able to forget the struggle we went through to get hormone treatment for my mom, in line with the survival data, rather than the anti-hormone treatment that was and is still standard. One doctor even told us that following the data would be “suicide." (And yes, my mom is still here alive and well, more than 18 years later!)
My support for Hormonally has been born out of a concern for the lack of evidence-based information on hormone health available to women in the US. I believe that women and their healthcare providers need to understand the scientific evidence rather than the false narratives about hormones and hormone therapy. Women need a trusted, non-biased voice to provide safe, factual information for themselves and their providers to use during the shared decision making process.