In the weeks before her death, 26-year-old influencer Sydney Towle stared at the camera from her hospital bed and pointed to an old video of herself saying: “It’s a great day to have a great day.” This kind of positivity radiated off her TikTok feed until the very end, when she passed away from a rare cancer of the bile ducts in August. 

Somehow, through years of treatments, Sydney maintained an aura of openness and optimism. That was a feat, considering that while she battled the disease that would eventually take her life, haters online accused her of using her diagnosis to gain wealth, notoriety, and sympathy. Others incorrectly claimed she was “faking” her illness altogether.

They accused her of “toxic positivity,” and compared her to cancer-scammers like the subjects of shows Scamanda and Apple Cider Vinegar. They believed she couldn’t travel or look the way she did if she really was sick. But she was sick. Her doctor confirmed her cancer diagnosis with The New York Times in May. Sydney rarely commented on the negative press, but told The Times in the months before her death of her detractors: “I’m sorry that they are so angry that living with cancer can look different than they think it should.”

Sydney’s story is one horrifying example of a pervasive problem we’re all too familiar with: society does not believe women, particularly when they say they’re in pain. 

The history of dismissing women and their pain goes all the way back to Ancient Greece and Egypt. Hippocrates was the first recorded doctor to diagnose “hysteria,” a word literally derived from the Greek phrase for uterus. He and other famous practitioners and philosophers claimed this was caused when the uterus wandered through the body due to too little sex and too few babies. They argued pregnancy could protect against hysteria, which, of course, reinforced the idea that a woman’s main job is to reproduce. These myths snowballed into centuries of dismissing women’s pain as “psychological,” claiming we’re “overreacting” or making it up. Which, obviously, still happens today. 

Sydney’s experience is a clear example of this. And while, in her case, it was a mob on the internet questioning her condition, many women receive similar forms of skepticism from their doctors. A 2024 study found that women were less likely to receive pain medication than men for the same symptoms. And research has found that women are more likely to experience chronic pain, suffering that has become normalized.

Black women are especially vulnerable to harmful misconceptions in health care. Black patients are 40% less likely than white patients to receive medication for acute pain, and another study found physicians were 2x as likely to underestimate Black patients’ pain compared with other racial groups. Part of the problem may start before doctors ever enter the exam room: in a survey of 222 white medical students and residents, about half endorsed at least one false belief about biological differences between Black and white people, including the myth that Black people feel less pain.

Sydney’s experience is a lesson in both the perils of internet mob mentality and of not believing women when they speak out, especially about their health. But that isn’t the legacy she’ll leave behind. Sydney used her platform to raise awareness for early cancer detection, crucial work, especially after a National Cancer Institute report found that rates of 14 cancers had increased among young people under 50 in the U.S.

There’s no single way to “look” like a cancer patient or like someone living with any serious or terminal illness. Advances in medicine, technology, supportive care, and rehabilitation can allow people to maintain parts of their everyday lives, even while navigating devastating diagnoses. Someone can look healthy and be seriously ill. They can travel, exercise, laugh, post photos, and still be fighting for their life. Illness does not need to be visible to be real, and no one should have to perform their suffering, or provide proof of it, to be treated with basic respect, empathy, and dignity.

Elizabeth Teran is the Chief Parent Officer at Owlet, the baby technology company behind the FDA-cleared Dream Sock, a wearable smart baby monitor that tracks an infant's pulse rate, oxygen levels, and sleep to give parents support and greater peace of mind. Teran leads across product management, design, customer service, and marketing. While her approach is grounded in data, it's always informed by the real, lived experiences of families, helping drive innovations that make parenting a little easier.

What’s the worst career advice you’ve gotten?

Early in my career, I was told to stay in my lane. I think that's really poor advice, as my career has benefited from stepping out of my lane in order to understand the broader business. When I first started, I had an administrative role that had me working across finance, operations, and sales. When you take the time to understand your role and how it plays in the bigger company, you can be much more impactful.

What’s the best piece of non-obvious career advice you’ve gotten?

Someone once said to me, “Spend time on what never changes instead of what's constantly changing.” Especially in this day and age, with AI and other technology, you can easily be distracted. I keep my focus on what never changes, like great marketing or product development. It starts with empathy and understanding of the customer, offering clarity and value to them. It’s a foundational piece. No matter what field you’re in, you have to start with the things that never change and then build the latest opportunities on top of that.

What was a heartbeat moment for you in your career?

My heartbeat moment took place in 2021 when I first stepped into an executive position. Our CMO was going on maternity leave and she asked me to be interim CMO. I wondered, "Can I do this? Am I ready?” Thirty days into that position, we got an FDA warning letter, and it was the most challenging time in our company’s history. 

The FDA said our main product, the Smart Sock, which tracks a baby's heart rate and oxygen, was a medical device and should not be sold as a wellness device. So we had to rethink it. How can we redesign our product experience to still offer parents peace of mind while we work towards FDA clearance? One of our parents even started a change.org petition and tens of thousands of other parents signed it, stating that they needed this technology and their babies would be unsafe without it. We knew we had to deliver for parents. About two years later, we achieved FDA clearance across two products of ours (the Smart Sock is now the Dream Sock). Remembering the parents kept us rooted in what mattered most.

Who is one person you’d love to give flowers to from your career that influenced your journey? What advice or lesson did you learn from them?

I would love to give flowers to Jessica Klodnicki. She has been a massive influence on my career and my leadership style. She is the perfect example of what Liz Wiseman calls a “multiplier” in her book, Multipliers. Wiseman defines a multiplier as someone who finds and develops the best talent and creates an environment that pushes people, stretching their thinking. Individuals do their best work when they are given autonomy, ownership, and accolades. Jessica gave us just enough leash to learn, stretch, and grow, and she always had our back. She is one of the best leaders I’ve ever worked with.

Where have you caused some good trouble in your career?

I’ve caused good trouble by being the person who was willing to ask the difficult question or say the difficult thing. But it has to be done with tact. I had to learn diplomacy, because there were times I didn't have it. You have to ask questions like, “Why are we doing it this way?” “Is that what's best for the customer?” “Is this really as big as we think we can do this?" A lot of people are too willing to just nod their head in the room and do as they're told. When you really own your role, you've got to be an advocate for a parent or a customer. You have to be willing to push back and ask the hard questions.

Want to nominate a leader you admire? You can do so here.

Janis Gilman of The Female Quotient weighs in:

First, I’m so sorry you’re going through this. Being laid off is hard, and it’s natural for it to shake your confidence. A job is more than a paycheck; it can be part of your identity, your routine, your relationships, and your sense of purpose. But remember, a layoff is something that happened to you. It is not a reflection of your value. Companies make these decisions for all kinds of reasons: budgets change, businesses restructure, priorities shift, and sometimes, entire teams are cut. Don’t let one company’s decision define what you’re capable of.

Use this moment to take stock. What work energized you? What are you great at? What do you want more, or less, of next? Reflection isn’t about blame; it’s about using what you’ve learned to make your next move stronger. Then start talking to people. Update your resume and LinkedIn, reconnect with former colleagues and mentors, tell your network what you’re looking for, and ask for introductions. So many opportunities begin with a conversation long before a job is ever posted.

Most importantly, don’t think only about replacing the job you lost. Ask yourself: What do I *really* want next? One company made one decision at one moment in your career. That’s a chapter in your story, not the conclusion.

P.S. Got a burning career question? Serve it up here to Dear FQ to score advice from a powerhouse leader in our network.

You're comfortable in your career, but something feels like it’s missing. Taking the leap can be daunting, especially when you don't know what's waiting on the other side. It's no surprise that 62% of our community says they approach risk through careful evaluation. Our willingness to take risks is shaped by everything from our upbringing and culture to stress levels, mindfulness, and even biology. Research shows that while both men and women take risks, testosterone can make it easier to embrace uncertainty. Confidence and testosterone levels rise when risks pay off, and fall after setbacks, making us less likely to put ourselves out there again.

But career-defining moments rarely arrive wrapped in certainty: the promotion you're not sure you're ready for, the industry pivot, the startup, the board seat, or the chance to speak up when your voice could change the conversation. According to the World Economic Forum, navigating risk starts with these 5 things: taking stock of your emotions, recognizing that other people’s stress about your choices does not have to impact you, weighing the pros and cons, thinking about the bigger picture, and finding ways to reduce potential downsides. Every meaningful step forward requires a leap before there's a guarantee. And if you never take it, you'll never know what you're truly capable of.

Here’s to taking women’s voices and women’s health seriously. Period.

Xo,

The FQ

Don’t forget to let us know what you think of The FQ Newsletter here.