The Sisterhood of Pain – How Endometriosis Created Unbreakable Bonds

Sisterhood is a powerful force that can conquer any challenge and uplift every soul it touches. — Jennifer Lopez

Image from Freepik

They say pain changes you, but I’d argue that pain also introduces you to people you never knew you needed. People who just get it. Because let’s be honest—until you've curled up on the bathroom floor, whispering motivational speeches to yourself between cramps, or used a hot water bottle so much it feels like an emotional support pet, you probably can’t fully grasp what living with endometriosis is like.

But you know who does? Other Endo Warriors.

And that’s how this unexpected, beautiful sisterhood was born—a fierce collective of women who found each other through pain, but stayed because of love, laughter, and a mutual understanding that goes beyond words.

Before I found this community, I spent a couple of years trying to explain my pain to people who nodded sympathetically but didn’t actually understand. You know the type—the ones who suggest ginger tea for stabbing pelvic pain or tell you to "just relax" as if a uterus in full rebellion mode can be soothed with positive thinking.

But then I met my people. Women who didn’t flinch when I mentioned endo belly, who had also perfected the "smile-through-the-pain" act, and who didn’t need me to explain why my heating pad was practically an extension of my body. These women weren’t and aren't just fellow sufferers. They became my sisters in battle.

I’ve met warriors from all over the world—some online, some in person—and the way we bond is almost instantaneous. One minute, we’re swapping stories about emergency room nightmares, and the next, we’re sending each other memes about how our pain levels fluctuate between "manageable" and "burn-it-all-down."

I’ve had late-night conversations with fellow endo warriors where we vent, cry, and laugh (because if we don’t laugh, we might just scream). I’ve met women who have held my hand (virtually and literally) through flare-ups, surgeries, and emotional breakdowns.

Some of my best friendships have started with the words:

"Hey, I have endometriosis too," or "I know exactly what you're talking about. I too have experienced that."

And just like that, I knew I wasn’t alone anymore.

My friendships forged through endometriosis include:

• Monique (South Africa)

Monique and I live just a short drive away from each other in Johannesburg, but it took endo to bring us together. Our first in-person meeting? Not a doctor’s office or support group, but at a Westlife concert! I invited her to be my plus one because, let’s be honest, nothing bonds two warriors like nostalgic boy-band ballads and screaming at the top of our lungs. We had an incredible night—singing, dancing, pushing through the week's fatigue build-up—but, of course, we paid for it the next day with flare-ups. Totally worth it.

• Adelaide (Ghana)

Adelaide and I started as virtual colleagues. I noticed some of her posts about pain, fatigue, and the quiet struggle she was hinting at. So I did something bold—I slid into her DMs and asked outright: "Do you have endometriosis?" She was stunned. Nobody had ever recognised it before, let alone asked her directly. That conversation changed everything.

When I last traveled to Accra, we finally met in person, and I brought her a care package filled with essentials that she struggled to access in her part of the world. Seeing her face light up reminded me that support comes in many forms. We spent the day sharing a health-conscious meal, talking about our careers, personal struggles, and dreams—because beyond endo, we are still whole people with ambitions, laughter, and joy to share.

• Laila (Namibia)

Laila was terrified when she scheduled her first-ever laparoscopy. I had been there before, so I did what any big endo sister would do—I sent her a link to my blog, packed with surgery prep tips, post-op care advice, and virtual hugs.

But what really touched me? She later told me that she shared my blog with her mother, to help her understand what she was going through. And it worked. Her mom finally started to see the illness through her daughter’s eyes. That’s why I started this blog—to bridge the gap between patients and the world around them.

Outside of our endo struggles, Laila and I bonded over our fur babies—because let’s be real, sometimes pets understand our pain better than people do. We share updates on our little companions, sending each other photos of their cutest (and most mischievous) moments.

• Ibironke (Nigeria)

Ibironke and I had met once in person before, but our real connection deepened when we both mysteriously disappeared from social spaces for a while—each for different medical reasons. As someone who has learned to read between the lines, I recognised certain phrases she was using and decided to check in.

She opened up about her struggles, and we instantly connected on a more personal level. Suddenly, it wasn’t just about "How’s work?" or "How was your weekend?"—it became "How’s your pain today?" "Have you eaten?" "Are you taking care of yourself?" That shift made all the difference. Sometimes, the greatest friendships come from simply seeing and understanding what someone else is silently going through.

• Lily (UK)

Lily found my blog at a time when she was at her lowest. She had been crying, overwhelmed with pain and frustration, stuck in a never-ending wait for excision surgery under the NHS. She needed resources. She needed a friend. She needed a sister in this fight.

I did what I could—sharing pain management tips, words of encouragement, and simply being there. We have never met in person, but we’ve exchanged countless virtual hugs and heart-to-hearts. And when, after a year and a half of waiting, she finally got her first excision surgery, I felt like we had both won a battle together.

For privacy reasons, I’ve changed the names of my friends in this post—but the heart of these stories remains true. Because it’s not about the names; it’s about the incredible connections, the unbreakable bonds, and the reminder that no one should have to fight this illness alone.

Let me tell you, having an endo support system changes EVERYTHING. It’s knowing that when I’m having a rough day, I have people who:

• Don’t need me to explain why I’m canceling plans—again.

• Understand why I carry pain meds like they’re VIP concert tickets.

• Will hype me up for just getting out of bed on the worst days.

• Check in on me after doctor’s appointments because they KNOW how emotional and exhausting it can be.

• Check in on me after a day of chores or being at the office.

• Share treatment hacks, symptom management tips, and survival strategies like a secret underground club.

When the world feels dismissive or isolating, my endo sisters remind me that I am seen, heard, and supported. And vice versa of course.

Would I choose to have endometriosis? Absolutely not. If I could return this body of mine for a full refund, best believe I would. But would I trade the friendships I’ve gained through this journey? Never.

In a strange way, endometriosis has gifted me something priceless: a sisterhood forged in pain but strengthened by love, laughter, and unshakable support. It has shown me that even in our hardest battles, we don’t have to fight alone. That's why we have this favourite saying: "Endometriosis is the worst club, but it does have the best members." It basically describes the challenges that come with this illness and the supportive community we find within the endometriosis community.

So, to my fellow warriors—whether we’ve met online, in support groups, in hospital waiting rooms, or even in the comments section—thank you for being part of my journey. You make the burden lighter. You remind me why we keep fighting.

Now, tell me: How has endometriosis connected you with people who just get it? Have you found your endo sisters? Share your stories in the comments—I’d love to hear them!

With love and friendship,

Hlengz - The African Endo Warrior

💛💛