In the last few weeks, we lost two women who shaped what it means to be a feminist in America. Gloria Steinem died on September 2nd, at 92. Just days before her, on August 25th, we lost Dolly Parton, at 80, after a brief battle with cancer. I've spent the days since thinking about what they each gave us, and what's left for the rest of us to do.
I was eleven years old when I first declared myself a feminist, signing up for my very first magazine subscription: Ms. I'm not entirely sure I understood every nuanced political argument at that age, but that early exposure sparked an ambition that stayed with me. In a sixth-grade assignment about what I wanted to be when I grew up, I confidently wrote that I would be President of the United States.
I feel fortunate to have grown up in the orbit of leaders like Gloria Steinem. Witnessing her over the years gave me, and so many others, the language to question traditional women's roles and confront the pervasive inequities facing working women. She never let us settle for polite gestures toward equality when structural change was what was actually owed. The distinction between being included and having power is one I still think about every time I sit down to write.
Dolly's feminism looked different from Gloria's, but it was every bit as radical. 9 to 5 wasn't just a movie to me; it was permission to laugh at what was infuriating, and to imagine something better anyway. Dolly built libraries for children who had none. She turned a rural, impoverished childhood into an empire without ever apologizing for where she came from, or softening herself to be taken seriously. She proved a woman could be unapologetically herself and that there was no contradiction in it at all. She also gave without asking for credit, quietly funding vaccine research and literacy programs that reached millions of children who will never know her name.
Losing them both in the same week feels like the closing of a chapter. But I don't think it's an ending. I think it's a passing of the torch, and I've been asking myself what it means to carry it forward, not by repeating what they did, but by doing more in their honor, building on the ground they broke for the rest of us.
By the time I reached college, I had already spent years absorbing the lessons of the women's movement, and survey courses in Women's Studies only solidified my convictions. I went on to complete my master's thesis on "Women in the Workplace," an early exploration of the struggle to balance professional life and family. Like so many women of my generation, my life embodied the tension of trying to "have it all." The frustrations of that balancing act grew over the decades, eventually leading me to become an entrepreneur. I longed for something that was truly mine, not just the identity of a wife or mother.
I found my vocation in women's health, driven by a deeply personal need: to address my own vaginal health issues and ensure the continuity of my sex life and marriage after four births. When I began Good Clean Love in my kitchen, the juggling act was constant. Having my own business was the only way to build a schedule that allowed me to parent while pursuing work that mattered.
My quest for women's equality is now the engine of my work. The reality of medical research is staggering: for much of history, women were systematically excluded from clinical trials. For decades, the male body was treated as the "default prototype" for medical research. It wasn't until the 1990s that federal mandates finally began to shift this, yet today, the neglect remains profound. Women's health research still suffers from a significant knowledge gap, receiving only a fraction of medical research dollars spent annually. This systemic bias plays out in real-time. For years, products marketed for vaginal health have ignored basic physiological principles, often using hyper-osmolar formulas that can dehydrate tissue, disrupt the microbiome, and increase susceptibility to infection.
My feminist conviction today is expressed through scientific rigor. We developed Bio-Match® technology, a system built on the principles of biomimicry, because I believe women deserve products that work with their physiology, not against it. By ensuring our formulations are iso-osmolar and mimic the natural lactic acid found in healthy vaginal fluid, we are doing more than selling a product; we are protecting the body's natural immune defense. We are now taking this mission further. Through the VENUS study, we are collecting unprecedented data, including qPCR and whole genome sequencing, to provide the actionable, quantitative insights that have been missing from women's health for too long. With the launch of our clinical platform, Good Clean Clinical Care, we are bringing this microbiome-first science into clinical practice.
Feminism isn't a single fight, finished and handed off, but rather every generation figuring out what equality requires in its own moment, and then doing that work. For me, that work happens to be women's health, because it's where I've spent my life and where I believe real change is still possible. But I don't think Gloria or Dolly would care what form the work takes, so long as it's honest and it's ours. I intend to keep showing up for it, the way they showed up for me.
As Gloria Steinem once noted, "No one can give us power. If we aren't part of the process of taking it, we won't be strong enough to use it."
- Wendy Strgar, Founder
