I Was Raised By Religious Parents — & It Complicated My Relationship With Healthcare

There’s a free HPV (human papillomavirus) vaccine that prevents 90 to 100 per cent of infections and related cervical cancers. Sounds great, right? Not according to my mother. When I was a teenager, the HPV vaccine was offered at my high school for free. It was simple: get a permission slip signed by your parents, and you’d receive a jab alongside your besties.

I was raised in a very religious family, so it shouldn’t come as a surprise that my Christian mother put her foot down when it came to getting this particular vaccine. You see, HPV is transmitted via oral, vaginal or anal sex with an infected partner. While my father was open to me getting the vaccine, she was adamant that I wouldn’t be having sex until I was in a monogamous marriage, so the thought was ridiculous to entertain. It’s actually best to get the HPV vaccine before you become sexually active, so the logic was all out the window on this one.

Besides, what if it wasn’t my choice to have sex? Wouldn’t having the vaccine regardless of intent be the safest course of action? Sex was a taboo topic in our household, due to a combination of conservative Chinese culture and religion. This was likely a driving factor in why I wasn’t given a chance to discuss the repercussions of my mother’s decision, something I didn’t understand until years later.

The idea that religion should be intertwined with healthcare is complicated at best, and dangerous at worst. You only need to look at the abortion bans in the US to see how religious beliefs can put lives at risk. Researchers Amanda Jean Stevenson, Leslie Root and Jane Menken found that an abortion ban across all US states would cause an increase of maternal deaths per year by 24 per cent. Sadly, it didn’t take long for this to become a reality once Roe v. Wade was overturned in 2022. The state of Georgia deemed a dilation and curettage (D&C) a felony in 2024 with minimal exceptions. That same year, Amber Nicole Thurman was in dire need of a D&C after she took abortion pills and her body failed to expel her fetal tissue. She passed away after doctors waited 20 hours before deciding to operate, a death experts have now deemed as “preventable”.

Dr. Archana Koirala, NSW Infectious Diseases Specialist, says the HPV vaccine “should be given to all adolescents, boys and girls” and is best administered before first sexual intercourse.

“[The] HPV vaccine prevents cervical cancer — mainly through the prevention of HPV 16 and 18 — [and] modelling studies have shown that if high vaccine coverage and screening is maintained, cervical cancer could be eliminated as a health problem in Australia by 2028,” she explains.

Associate Professor Annika Antonsson, a virologist with QIMR Berghofer in Brisbane, adds that “the vast majority of sexually active Australians will be exposed to HPV during their lifetime”. 

“While most clear the infection naturally, four to five per cent will develop persistent infections that can lead to various cancers, including cervical, anal, and throat cancers. The HPV vaccine prevents about 90 per cent of these cancers,” she says.

My mother was probably coming from the angle that people in monogamous relationships — including marriage — are at a lower risk of getting HPV. Antonsson says this idea of “abstinence as a reason to not get the HPV vaccine” is both “risky” and “leaves people vulnerable to exposure”. 

“While HPV is primarily transmitted through sexual contact, including oral sex and deep kissing, life circumstances can change, and not all future exposures are predictable,” she explains. “The vaccine is a safe, effective way to protect against future cancer risk, regardless of your current sexual activity or intentions.”

Now, here’s where it gets messy. I couldn’t just go to my doctor and discuss my options because my father was my General Practitioner (GP), and my mother was also a practising GP. I’ve had a strange relationship with healthcare all my life, because if I were sick or needed medicine, he would provide check-ups at home and write me scripts. I had no safe space to go to discuss healthcare worries, concerns or even discuss birth control options. If I had found myself needing an abortion, I would have needed to locate a Family Planning clinic in secret and ask for advice. 

I later found out that my best friend, who also has two GPs for parents, was registered with her own GP from a young age so that she could have control over her medical choices and body. Unlike her, my view of healthcare was so intertwined with religion and my family, that I avoided getting a GP even after I’d moved out of home. Without experiencing a trust-based relationship with a consistent doctor outside of my family, I didn’t realise I was missing out on control over my healthcare. And since religion contributed to my distorted view of sex and sexual health, I didn’t feel comfortable approaching those topics with any medical professionals for years. 

As a young and naive 20-something, the way I dealt with recurrent UTIs was poor. Instead of signing up for a doctor who would have access to my medical history and be able to work with me, I’d pop into a walk-in clinic on the way to work. These GPs didn’t know I had my first UTI at the age of four, that it ran in my family… or anything about me. As I moved around the world, my pattern of visiting random walk-in clinics continued. I’ve got a massive gap in my medical history, and I wouldn’t be able to tell you what medications I took for a decade or how often I took them. 

When I turned 30, I finally signed up for my own GP. As much as we love to tout the idea that Australia has a free healthcare system, it’s not as accessible as it should be, especially when you rely on bulk billing, have no access to transport, housing insecurity or a number of other issues. I acknowledge my privilege when it comes to many of these common obstacles —  my biggest roadblock was my reliance on family, and finding the courage to develop trust with a complete stranger when it came to sexual health.

But, as silly as it sounds, having a regular GP has changed my life. I’d been struggling with pain levels due to having a chronic illness from the age of 17, and while I was able to control some elements, my GP introduced me to the idea of preventative options. Through my doctor, I was able to access a neurologist, dermatologist and therapist — probably about a decade after I needed them. 

I’ve been given access to new medication that has saved me from a lifetime of pain, and I have a trusted health professional who goes out of her way to research the latest developments when it comes to my chronic health condition. It’s strange for it to have taken me this long, but I’m so glad I got here in the end.