Psychiatry Won’t Fix What Feminism Broke

This article is written by Dr. Hannah Spier, a medical doctor who trained in psychiatry in Norway and Sweden. She describes herself as “The Antifeminist Psychiatrist” and aims to expose bad therapy and and the liberal narratives that contribute to our poor health.

I have spent much time as a psychiatrist sitting across from women in deep distress.
Women who, by all modern feminist measures, have done everything right. They’re
high-achieving, independent, and financially stable. Yet, arrive in therapy
inconsolable. Best-case scenario? They regret not spending more time with their
kids. Worst case? Forty years of palpable pain.

I say this with compassion, but also with anger. Women have been sold a lie. The
messaging is relentless: You can do anything you want as long as you want it badly
enough. Kids are optional. Career is everything. The right man will just show up when
you’re ready.

When they wake up in their mid-30s realizing their deepest desires were put on hold
for too long? The same voices tell them it’s just society making them feel this way.
That they must “reframe their narrative.” That therapy can help them be happy with
what they have.

I know this lie because I used to believe it, too.

Where I’m Coming From
I grew up in Norway, the feminist utopia of the world. Like most girls there, I was
raised with egalitarian ideals. I studied medicine, trained in psychiatry, and worked
alongside brilliant women who had been given every opportunity to succeed. Yet,
there were so many we couldn’t help.

It wasn’t until I had my first child that I understood it. The instinct to nurture and nest
is undeniable. My priorities shifted overnight. Suddenly, I saw my female patients with
new eyes. The women I had been treating for years with burnout, anxiety,
unexplained fatigue, were all presenting with the same sets of symptoms. At first, I
assumed it was just coincidence. But over time, a clear pattern emerged.

Two Archetypes, Two Outcomes
The women who came to me in their 20s often presented with anxiety and panic
attacks. Many had been pushed into academic and career paths that didn’t truly fulfil
them, chasing an idea of success that was supposed to make them happy. They
looked up to characters like Rory Gilmore—effortlessly achieving, hyper-intelligent,
and indifferent to male attention.

In reality, very few women live up to this ideal.

Beneath their anxiety was something deeper: an unmet emotional need for
attachment, love, and intimacy. They weren’t consciously aware of it, but they were
trying to fill that void with academic achievement and ambition. I saw how much male
attention mattered to them because when they had a successful date, they came into
therapy glowing. When the guy eventually cut off contact (he was, after all, a 20-
something in college) they were in despair. Some would be misdiagnosed with rapid-
cycling bipolar disorder.

By their 30s, a different picture emerged. These women were no longer anxious, they
were exhausted. High achievers, thriving in their careers, with long-term boyfriends
who saw them as a ticket to freedom. Men who viewed these women as a way to
avoid commitment.

They had been told “you have plenty of time for family, you can always decide
later.” “Having kids is right for some women, but wrong for just as many other
women.” “It’s imperative that financial independence precedes whatever comes next.”
“Focus on yourself, and the right man will follow”.

Then, suddenly, something shifted.

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. The inevitable motivational conflict between “what is” and “what should be” manifests differently than it did in their 20s. Now, instead of panic attacks, they suffer from fatigue, burnout, and a
growing sense of meaninglessness.

The next promotion doesn’t feel like a victory. They look around and see friends
getting married and having children. Their relationships? Stuck. Their partners, drawn
to their independence and career focus, had no interest in marriage or family life. And
now, as they sit across from me, I see the same look time and time again. Confusion,
grief, and a desperate attempt to make sense of why they feel this way when they’ve
done everything right.

And what do they do? They turn to therapy.

They say, I don’t know why I feel so exhausted. Why nothing brings me joy anymore. They are  prescribed medication. They are told to reframe their expectations. They waste more of their fertile years in therapy. It is easier to believe more lies, than to adjust one’s worldview.

The Feminist Lie
The root of her distress lay in the belief that achieving academic success could fill the
void left by unmet emotional needs. Rather than confront this reality, feminist-
influenced therapy pushes her to reframe her dissatisfaction as a product of
internalized societal expectations. This postmodernist approach, common in the
majority progressively leaning psychological community, assumes that distress stems
from internalized narratives rather than external realities.

Feminism was never a benevolent movement that simply lost its way. It was, from the
beginning, an ideology of resentment, in my view. It told women they must view men with
suspicion. That they should never be vulnerable, never sacrifice, never trust.

By equating success with male-dominated spheres, it wires women to view any trade-off
as a loss and at every turn, resentfully ask, “Why should I, and not him?”

This ideology has profoundly shaped the way women approach relationships. They
are told to “love themselves before they can love someone else.” That they should
spend years alone, single, working on self-acceptance. But how does that work in
practice? If a woman is overweight, does standing naked in front of a mirror and, repeats “I love myself”, does that change anything? Rarely, because there are inherent truths
and knowledge. And denying that things can be better or worse is a postmodernist
fantasy.

Feminism, like any pathogen, infects the worldview of those who adopt it. Depending
on personality structure and competence level, living by its principles leads to
psychopathology unresponsive to medication. It warps decision-making and pits
women against their own psychological needs and against the opposite sex. Without
whom these needs can never be fulfilled.

At its core, feminism is an ideology of resentment. It indoctrinates girls from a young
age, stunting their emotional maturity by teaching them to blame men and societal
norms instead of taking responsibility and recognizing men’s struggles and sacrifices.
This betrayal of their psychological needs creates deep motivational conflicts, leading
to psychiatric symptoms that ripple through families and communities. Until we
eradicate this poison, generation after generation of women will continue to suffer its
consequences.

The Reality Women Need to Hear
The women who seem to have the best outcomes, the ones I rarely see in therapy,
are those who willingly saw their choices through a family-oriented lens from an early
age. Who dated with intention. Who chose careers that were flexible. Who didn’t buy
into the feminist notion that to sacrifice for family is to be oppressed. This is because our biology is not a social construct. The deepest yearnings of a woman’s heart are not simply internalized narratives that can be cognitively “reframed.”

Despite what we are constantly told by social media, women receive endless
consideration and encouragement to achieve their career goals and, in the Western
world, every possible accommodation to continue progressing after childbirth.
Norway, for example, is praised for giving women the perfect work-life balance. And
yet, their mental health statistics, divorce rates, and fertility rates are increasingly
devastating.

Norwegian women’s poor mental health is evidence that women’s well-being cannot
be improved by playing the perfect game of chess with the hours of the day. The key
is finding fulfilment through ungrudging sacrifice. Giving freely without resenting and
receiving unconditional love in return, while daring to take the necessary risks. For
only through risk can we achieve the highest yield.

Follow Dr. Hannah Spier at PsychobabbleWithSpier. She is based in Switzerland. You can keep up with her writings on X: @hannahspierMD.