Why I Am the Antifeminist Psychiatrist

Archetypes of Women in Psychiatric Treatment

In my years of psychiatric practice, I have observed a number of strikingly consistent patterns among women presenting with symptoms of psychological distress. These patterns have appeared with such regularity that they almost form a predictable blueprint—a set of archetypes tied to the dissonance these women face at different stages of life. The following stories do no refer to any particular patient, but are symbolic of the consistent presentation I have observed in psychiatric practice.

Stacy the Student

Stacy, a 24-year-old woman, presents with anxiety, sudden-onset panic attacks, and persistent sleep disturbances. Until recently, she had no history of psychiatric issues. Now, she finds herself struggling with anxiety that leads to poor concentration and emotional fatigue. Twice, she had a friend bring her to the ER, thinking she was suffering a heart attack or that she would pass out. A full neurological assessment and an EKG revealed no underlying somatic illness. She was sent home with a prescription for Xanax.

Although Stacy’s intelligence is average, her conscientious nature, coupled with the encouragement and support of her teachers and parents, helped her gain admission to a reputable university where she is now working towards a Master’s degree in business administration. Her family is unaffiliated with any religion, and she has no community activities beyond her campus life.

She often mentions her disappointment at failing to live up to aspirational figures—characters like Rory Gilmore from Gilmore Girls or Spencer Hastings in Pretty Little Liars. A disappointment she fears her family shares. This fear manifests in health-related anxieties, with frequent worries about vague physical symptoms like fatigue, difficulty breathing, dizziness, numbness in limbs or headaches.

Before we began our sessions, Stacy had seen a therapist who prescribed self-soothing techniques (such as autogenic training and mindfulness meditation) and two different SSRIs. Only the soothing brought relief; albeit transitory. They had discussed possible sources of her anxiety and had tentatively identified her parents’ divorce as a likely contributing factor. Stacy herself felt strongly that this had affected her deeply, leaving her with unresolved issues she had yet to fully unpack.

Another therapist had suggested that she might be suffering from “Good Girl Syndrome,” explaining that her anxiety stemmed from an ingrained need to meet impossibly high expectations of herself. Stacy admitted that this explanation resonated with her as well. Yet, even after exploring these theories, her symptoms persisted, and she felt increasingly hopeless about finishing her degree.

When we explore the thoughts underlying these fears, it becomes clear that her anxiety is less about physical harm and more about humiliation and abandonment. She dreads not amounting to anything and scenarios like passing out in front of an auditorium. Such an event would be terrifying for the embarrassment and subsequent social shunning rather than the potential danger to her health. She fears ending up all alone.

Stacy dedicates considerable time and emotional energy to dating, seeking intimate connection. Some sessions, she arrives in noticeably higher spirits, buoyed by recent interactions with a man she’s interested in—texts exchanged, plans made, or even just the possibility of something more. In these moments, there’s a vibrancy in her demeanour. She frequently tells me about how a dinner date ended in great chemistry back at her place.

Other times, she tells me about relationships that have soured quickly, leaving her feeling awful after sex—something she believes her girlfriends never experience. She confides, with visible embarrassment, that many of the men she’s interested in never call her again after sleeping with her. Preferring not to admit this to her friends, instead she will frame it as though she was the one who lost interest. The emptiness and hopelessness she feels in these moments is palpable to me.

After 2 months of sessions, Stacy’s mood symptoms have become increasingly physically visible. Her skin has grown paler, dark circles have appeared under her eyes, and she has begun to gain weight. She often sits hunched over during appointments and has occasionally forgotten sessions altogether. Attempts to set up an activity schedule as part of behavioural therapy have so far failed, as the anxiety and fatigue continue to disrupt her ability to maintain any consistent routine.

Behind the symptoms

Recent surveys reveal female undergraduate students report significantly higher levels of negative emotions compared to their male peers, with more than 40% of students considering dropping out in the past six months. This alarming trend underscores the importance of understanding the real reason behind the psychological challenges faced by young women in higher education.

Society exacerbates these struggles by inundating young women with messages like, "You can do anything you want, as long as you want it enough." Pop culture tricks girls into chasing unrealistic ideals, embodied by characters like Rory Gilmore—highly intelligent and effortlessly achieving. The ugly truth is, only very few of them really are.

Two distinct profiles emerge among these women. Some are sufficiently conscientious, working diligently towards university admission. Others, less conscientious, likely would not have pursued higher education without quotas and an educational system tailored to female strengths. This is thanks to a feminist machinery that repeatedly demonstrates its indifference to the welfare of women.

Both types clinically present the same when their intrinsic psychological needs — meaningful relationships and motherhood — subconsciously pull them from their current path. As in Stacy’s case, this inevitable motivational conflict between “what is” and “what should be” manifests as health-related concerns, panic attacks, and a sense of dissatisfaction.

Stacy’s reactions to her dating experiences point to this conflict: she is trying to fulfil her attachment needs, but sadly, young men in university avoid commitment. The transactional nature of her interactions—fleeting validation followed by inevitable disappointment—only deepens her sense of emptiness, compounding her anxiety.

As time passes, anxiety undermines her academic performance, leading to poor grades and incomplete assignments—challenges she has never faced and has few coping strategies for. This creates a negative feedback loop. Stacy’s growing fatigue, disrupted routines, and increasing self-doubt illustrate how these symptoms snowball over time.

Stacy’s previous therapist focused on her parents’ divorce, encouraging her to search for a "magical memory" that might resolve her anxieties. This approach led Stacy to dwell in self-pity over her past, relieved that it alleviated the guilt of the negative feedback loop of her current struggles.

The root of her distress lay in the belief that achieving academic success could fill the void left by unmet emotional needs. Rather than empowering Stacy to face these realities, her previous therapy tried reframing her narrative and lowering her expectations.

This postmodernist approach, common in the majority progressively leaning psychological community, assumes that distress stems from internalized narratives rather than external realities. Women are often told they are "perfect just the way they are" or that they must counter-act the societally imposed “Good-Girl Syndrome”. These ideas, shaped by feminist attitudes of women’s superiority (“why should girls have to try so hard?”) and resentment of men (who, in turn, are rarely told they are perfect the way they are), dismiss the biological drives at the core of women’s well-being.

The path forward

Real progress came when Stacy realigned her goals with her newly realized and vocalized desires. She began to see herself not as a helpless victim of her history but as an adult capable of building the life she wanted—a vision now clearly outlined.

Instead of pursuing fleeting, unfulfilling interactions, she was encouraged to seek spaces where men sought committed relationships. These relationships were explored during daytime activities she genuinely enjoyed, leaving her with positive emotions and the ability to resume a healthier routine, slightly improving her performance. The absence of the emptiness she typically felt after casual sex surprised her.

This gave Stacy a clear path forward—a strategy for action rather than a warm blanket of self-soothing rituals under which she was to hide.

Penelope The Professional:

Penelope, a 34-year-old woman, presents with symptoms of burnout, including exhaustion, sleep disturbances, and a lack of motivation. No prior somatic or psychiatric history.

An athletic, attractive, university-educated professional, Penelope has built a successful career in corporate finance and was promoted to a prestigious role just last year. She used to feel immense pride in her work, frequently celebrated by her parents, who often touted her achievements to family and friends.

Her job also allowed her and Patrick, her boyfriend of seven years to travel extensively, a shared joy she once cherished. Now, however, the thought of their vacation plans brings none of the excitement it once did. In fact, she recalls that over the past six months, very few things have brought her any sense of positivity.

In our first session, Penelope emphasized the harmony she and Patrick—who she consistently refers to as her partner, not her boyfriend—in balancing their professional lives, describing him as supportive of her career and social life. However, in a later session, she admitted, “I’ve started wishing he’d take our future more seriously.” When I asked if they had discussed marriage or children, she hesitated before confessing that she had tried to bring it up several times, but his reactions were always defensive— “like a red cape to a bull,” as she put it.

As the weeks went on, Penelope’s dissatisfaction became more pronounced. “I see pregnant women everywhere,” she said during one session, her voice filled with contempt. She describes having told Patrick of yet another friend of theirs getting engaged, this time he got angry, accusing her of putting him under unreasonable pressure and manipulating him. After which, he left the room. At the same time, she struggled with the idea of leaving her relationship. Pausing mid-conversation, she asked anxiously, “Does that mean I have to start downloading the dating apps I always mocked?” The thought visibly overwhelmed her, and tears began to flow.

“Maybe he’s right,” she said through her sobs. “Maybe marriage is just a piece of paper, and I’m a silly girl for nagging about it. It would cost us so much money—money we could spend traveling. His parents are divorced, and he’s scared of ending up like that. And his nephews? They have ADHD and are absolute terrors. He says, ‘What if we have kids like that?’”

Penelope’s emotional turmoil grew as she began to seriously question her future, but having always succeeded with ease and not being used to muster courage to fight her fears, she stayed in that relationship in case a change was just around the corner.

Behind the symptoms

Some estimates place the prevalence of burnout in high-achieving professional women at 40%. This often happens with above-average intelligent and conscientious women who find it easy to believe they don’t tick like other women do. This differs from other forms of depression; it doesn’t arise from a lack of confidence in one’s abilities or feeling worthless, and rarely responds to antidepressive medication in my experience.

Spurred on by the positive emotions each promotion brings, they ride the wave of career success well into their 30s. Feminist ideas play a significant role in shaping these beliefs—ideas that assert it’s just as normal not to want children, that family is right for some and wrong for just as many others, and that kids are an oppressive drag on the progress of ambitious women. These women are led to believe their careers will always provide the same level of meaning and that they can decide on children much later—they have plenty of time and reproductive technologies on their side, or so they think.

Instead of acknowledging their true aspirations, these women follow societal pressures, sacrificing their most fertile years pursuing degrees and careers. By the time they reassess their goals, they face a much narrower pool of opportunities, leaving them asking, "Where have all the good men gone?" The feminist narratives they’ve internalized fail to align with the increasing intrinsic desires for connection and family, as the hormonal feedback of declining ovarian reserves hits in their 30s.

Suddenly, the next promotion doesn’t hold the same joy it once did. She looks up from her desk, having lost her “why.” She realizes that the pull toward motherhood surpasses societal norms. The ache of unmet maternal desires sets in, bringing with it a profound sense of disconnection. These women sense desperation as they realize they have boxed themselves into a corner with their past choices. They find themselves envious of the girls they once mocked for spending hours on “stupid dating apps” instead of focusing on their studies.

These thoughts lead to profound fatigue, and the hopelessness that drains their ability to experience positive emotions. Always the confident “go-getters”, they now feel, for the first time in their life, utterly powerless and without leverage.

As in the case of Stacy, there’s a motivational conflict, but for Penelope, who had a stable relationship throughout and excelled in her classes, this conflict arose much later. Unfortunately for the Penelopes of this world, however, their prognosis is often worse than Stacy’s.

For women like Penelope—those courageous enough to face their fears and approach the dating market with the same proactive, goal-oriented mindset they’ve applied to their careers—there’s hope for clearing the symptoms. This process may entail engaging in very tricky conversations to guide them toward a crucial realization: they may no longer have the same capability to attract or sustain relationships with the high-status men they successfully dated in their 20s, like their current commitment-averse boyfriend.

This necessary shift in criteria can open a part of the dating market where women still have plenty of choice, rather than competing exclusively in the narrow pool of the top 10% of men—where many women congregate and are left feeling hopeless about their prospects. This is where Patrick currently resides. Such conversations are likely to meet plenty of resistance and must be handled with the utmost sensitivity and respect. By letting go of unrealistic standards and dating with intention from the first encounter, she could engage in constructive conversations with men who turned out to be more than the story their pictures told.

A significant barrier to this shift is the lingering influence of feminist ideas that suggest women and men operate in the dating market the same way. Namely, that women in their 30s should have the same leverage as men of a similar age. In therapy, this narrative must be carefully dismantled to arrive at the reality; that men and women have different timelines and criteria, and only by embracing this distinction can women make informed and strategic decisions.

Compounding the issue is the shared aversion to self-improvement found in both feminist and postmodernist ideologies. Postmodernists resist the notion of self-betterment because it challenges their belief that nothing is inherently better or worse, while feminists often argue against self-improvement as pandering to the idea of changing oneself "for a man." Breaking free from these ideological constraints must be part of a successful therapeutic process. With that, we can help them muster the courage to take ownership and admit their desires.

The path forward

The worst outcome for women in Penelope’s position is ending up with therapists who misdiagnose the root cause of their burnout, attributing it solely to overwork. Why is nobody wondering why men can work 50 hours a week for years on end without “hitting the wall” while the HR woman sickens after only one year on the job?

Most therapists I worked with would prescribe Penelope sick leave, medications, or relaxation techniques like autogenic training. They would lose precious time in aimless pseudo-analysis overlooking the existential dissatisfaction, congratulating themselves on their expert Socratic methods after having asked: “Why is marriage so important to you?”

With Penelope, we took a different approach. First, we had to arrive at the realization that she did want a family—a goal she had been avoiding admitting to herself out of fear. From there, we mapped out the real risks she faced. My aim was to help her see that the risk of staying in a relationship leading nowhere was just as significant as the fear of re-entering the dating market. By reframing her perspective and equipping her with a clear strategy, Penelope was set on a path aligned with her goals and values.

Wendy The Working Mother

Wendy, a 43-year-old married woman with two school-age children presents with symptoms of moderate depression, including fatigue, frequent crying, irritability, and feelings of hopelessness. She reports feeling dissatisfied with her life for several years, especially her marriage, but notes that the nightly crying and increased emotional sensitivity began earlier this year.

At the urging of friends, she decided to seek help before making any major decisions. She has never had psychiatric therapy before, and apart from some minor physical treatments in the past and a BMI of 31, she is healthy.

In our first session, Wendy described her days as a relentless cycle of work and parenting duties. “I wake up at six, make breakfast, check emails while the kids fight over who gets the toilet first, and then rush out the door,” she said. Evenings were equally chaotic, filled with soccer practices, homework battles, and last-minute work emails. “By the time I get to bed, I’m so exhausted and unhappy I can’t sleep,” she admitted.

Her children, a nine-year-old son diagnosed with ADHD and a twelve-year-old daughter struggling with anxiety, required much of her attention. “The school calls about my son’s behavioural issues every week, and my daughter is on her phone all the time and won’t talk to me. I feel like I’m failing them,” she cries. She also suspected that her daughter’s anxiety might stem from hearing arguments between her and her husband.

Her marriage, once a source of support, now felt like another chore. Wendy described her husband as distant and disengaged. “He isn’t the same person I married,” she said. “He doesn’t help enough with the kids, and when I bring it up, he gets defensive. We don’t talk about anything except logistics or the kids. I’m doing it all on my own, and it’s exhausting.”

Their disagreements about parenting had long been a point of contention. When the children were younger, Wendy often clashed with her husband over his approach to discipline. She frequently intervened when he raised his voice, insisting that he should simply talk to the children and help them understand instead. Warren, her husband felt undermined by this criticism.

At the same time, he complained about their lack of intimacy, which only deepened Wendy’s resentment. “How am I supposed to feel close to someone who leaves everything on my plate?” she asked.

Wendy shared that she had spoken to her friends about her situation, all of whom were divorced. “They tell me how much better things got after the divorce,” she said. “They say it’s a relief for the children not to hear fighting, that it’s healthier for everyone. And honestly, I’m starting to believe them. Maybe my daughter would be better off if we separated.”

The overwhelming advice Wendy received from her friends was that divorce was better than the constant tension at home. They also suggested that divorce could offer Wendy a break, forcing Warren to do his fair share of the parenting and lightening her load. “Maybe they’re right,” Wendy said, her voice heavy with exhaustion. “I can’t keep living like this.”

Wendy’s emotional state grew darker as she reflected on her life. “I worked so hard to have this career and this family, but I feel like I built this life and now I can’t find my way out of it,” she said.

I prescribed Wendy sick leave to allow her to rest and address her moderate depression, concerned it might worsen. While she did not exhibit suicidal ideation, her symptoms warranted immediate intervention. The plan was for her to use this time to focus on her well-being. We agreed on a structured schedule that included gradually reintroducing exercise and addressing the weight she had gained over the past year. The hope was that reducing her exhaustion and preoccupations would give her more energy to focus on her children, who were the primary source of her guilt and hopelessness.

Clinically, there was measurable improvement in her symptoms, but whenever asked, Wendy insisted she felt worse than she seemed. Eventually, I could no longer lawfully extend her sick leave. Despite some progress during this period, she was unable to make changes that could sustain the relief she experienced, and ultimately, the situation culminated in divorce.

Behind the symptoms

Wendy’s demonstrated the psychological conflicts that arise in women who enter marriage and family life with egalitarian ideals shaped by feminist ideology. These beliefs often demand equal career contributions from both partners while framing traditional maternal roles as outdated.

Feminist ideals also instil a fundamental resentment toward men, teaching women to assume the worst of them and rarely giving them the benefit of the doubt. Wendy, like many women influenced by these narratives, believed men had easier lives and took women’s labour for granted.

She approached her marriage with these ideas, which over time added fuel to the fire of that resentment and sowed the seeds of dislike. Every situation in their married life was filtered through the lens of this resentment, leading to constant criticisms and lack of positive reinforcement. Warren, in turn, felt he could do nothing right. He stopped engaging in conflict altogether believing he could never win anyway.

Wendy interpreted his withdrawal as indifference, assuming he didn’t care enough about their lives even to discuss issues. Over time, she came to see him as a loser while he felt demoralized and powerless in the face of her constant dissatisfaction.

The children’s diagnoses—ADHD and anxiety—are traceable to attachment issues and the high-stress environment created by an overworked, absent mother and a father stripped of authority. The constant competition between them for scarce resources in a double income household—rest and empathy—drained their capacity for kindness. It left them both overwhelmed and unappreciated, blaming each other for their struggles. The pursuit of egalitarian ideals, rather than fostering harmony, undermined the family unit.

Adding to the complexity, Wendy relied on advice from friends, all of whom encouraged her to see divorce as the solution. They confirmed her sense of victimhood and the belief in Warren’s culpability. They reinforced the message that separation would create a net benefit while ignoring the long-term harm caused by broken families.

The path forward

Ultimately, there was no way to dismantle the deeply seated resentment Wendy felt through therapy. Neither she nor her husband could make the significant changes necessary to improve their lives meaningfully. Wendy remained stuck in blaming her exhaustion on Warren, unable to reach the perspective needed to see the structure of their life and the attitudes within it as the true source of the problem. I have not seen a case where a family dynamic at this point of deterioration did not end in divorce, and Wendy’s case was no exception.

Her story is a sobering reminder of the consequences of the narrative push, the feminist propaganda applied, to force women into the workplace, cheapening labour and thus creating the two-income trap that harms women and through women’s psychological distress— the family.

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These stories are not mere anecdotes but age-specific manifestations of recurring psychological distress. Each archetype is shaped by feminist narratives that compel women to betray their psychological needs and create motivational conflicts. These inevitably lead to psychiatric symptoms that ripple through families and communities.

I have too often been frustrated by the irreversibility of the life situations of these patients—like arriving at the scene after the trainwreck has already happened, knowing nothing can be undone. Resentment was usually the lever that set them on the wrong track.

As a doctor I once took an oath to first do no harm, seeing how feminist ideologies are the pathogen we must eradicate, I take pride in calling myself the antifeminist psychiatrist.

Feminism, at its core, is the ideology of resentment.