When I was 21, my mum died of breast cancer. She was just 53—the same age I am today. She was first diagnosed when I was eight, and later on the symptoms of what I now know were metastatic bone cancer were written off as just being in her mind. For years, she was referred to a psychiatrist instead of an oncologist. Suffice to say that it's left me with strong feelings about how women's pain is commonly dismissed.