When “It Sounds Right” Isn’t the Same as Being Right
Why this kind of pelvic floor advice pulls you in—and why it doesn’t hold up
I saw a video today that made me stop scrolling. And if you know me, you know I usually don’t stop. I keep it moving—because the second I pause, I can feel myself getting irritated.
Not just because of the misinformation, but because it was packaged just well enough to take off. It wasn’t wildly wrong or dangerous in an obvious way. It was just… convincing enough to make you think: “Wait—should I be doing that?”
The kind of post that blows up for a reason
Here was the gist: A postpartum mom with multiple kids and zero symptoms gave a full breakdown of how she “supported” her pelvic floor:
- Right-sided pelvic floor overactivity
- Targeted inner thigh stretching
- Internal release work with a wand
- Side-specific strength and “pelvic balance” strategies
She has a Grade 2 prolapse, no symptoms, runs marathons, and lifts heavy. The post had hundreds of likes and shares. And somewhere, a mom is watching this thinking, “Okay… so what am I doing wrong?”
Throwing around words that sound smart but say nothing
I actually understand why this lands. When you’re dealing with leakage or pressure, you want a plan and a reason. This content uses just enough medical language to sound legit.
But let’s look at the phrasing: “Right anterior pelvic floor overactivity” or “Pelvic balance.” I’ve been hearing and using words like this for over 30 years. It’s basic directional terminology from PT 101. When you string them together, they sound like a breakthrough, but they don’t actually provide clear, measurable, or useful guidance. If I asked 10 clinicians to define “pelvic balance,” you’d get 15 different answers.
The right-side vs. left-side trap
This is where we go off the rails. We do not have evidence that:
- Most people have a dominant “overactive” side of the pelvic floor.
- Organ asymmetry drives predictable pelvic floor patterns.
We all have asymmetrical organs (unless you have two hearts—if so, call me). We are still debating what “tone” even is and whether we can reliably assess it with a finger on a muscle. Building an entire “fix” strategy off of that is a major stretch.
The hook: “She doesn’t have symptoms”
The natural leap is: “If I do what she did, I’ll get her result.” Except we have no idea what her baseline was, her genetics, her connective tissue profile, or her medical history. The definition of prolapse has shifted—it’s not just anatomy; it’s anatomy plus symptoms. Grade 1–2 prolapse can exist in people who have never had kids and have zero symptoms.
We don’t know if anything she did actually “prevented” symptoms or if that is just how her body presents.
Pelvic floor symptoms are a unique recipe
Pelvic floor symptoms don’t come from one variable. They come from a recipe of:
- Load and capacity
- Hormones
- Sleep and stress
- Medical and birth history
- Genetics (and yes, your poop matters, too)
It’s not one stretch or “fixing” your right side.
What’s actually worth taking from this?
- A multimodal approach makes sense.
- Staying active matters.
- You can have anatomical prolapse and feel completely fine.
If you followed my personal story step-by-step, there is zero guarantee it would work for you because bodies aren’t templates. Don’t expect to find the answers to your problems in mine. You’ll just end up throwing darts at a board hoping they stick.
You didn’t do anything wrong
If you have symptoms, it isn’t because you picked the wrong exercise or failed to “balance” your pelvis. Sometimes it’s just the roll of the dice—genetics and birth history.
You aren’t stuck or broken, but you do need a different question. Instead of asking “What did she do?” try asking “What is my body telling me—and how do I work with that?”
Just because someone sounds smart doesn’t mean they are. And just because they don’t have symptoms doesn’t mean they hold the answer to yours.
