Well done Theresa May for discussing your smear test – it makes a change for those in power to acknowledge women’s health

Oh, do grow up. When the Prime Minister urged women at PMQs to book their regular smear test – now called a cervical screening test – the Telegraph’s Kate McCann commented on Twitter that there was sniggering in the gallery.

“The smear test is hugely important,” May said. “Sadly what we see ... is too many women not taking it up. I know it’s not a comfortable thing to do because I have it, as others do. But it is so important for women’s health and I first of all want to encourage women to take the smear test. Have that test.”

It was an unusually personal reply from the PM, and a welcome one. Maybe some people in the gallery can’t take the word “vagina” seriously, or stomach the fact that a woman often unfairly compared to a robot would need healthcare. But the issue isn’t a laughing matter. A survey from Jo’s Cervical Cancer Trust found that a third of woman delay or don’t attend smear tests, yet a two-minute smear test can detect three-quarters of all cervical cancers.

How can we address a serious issue without addressing it directly? In 2000, Gordon Brown famously slashed VAT on tampons but could not be persuaded to say “tampon” or “period”. That attitude lingers today, and at the highest levels. If we want to encourage women, especially younger women, to take the cervical screening test at least every three years, we will need to use the appropriate terms for our body parts without it causing hilarity.

The immaturity displayed by some in positions of power illustrates why “women’s issues” are swept under the carpet or laughed off. It’s why we have period poverty in schools across the UK, where young women are taking time off school every month because they can’t afford pads or tampons. It’s the reason that we have batted the issue of tampon tax back and forth between governments, with the most recent one making the bizarre decision to donate the tax to “charities” including a pro-life lobby group.

It’s the reason, partly, that many health conditions associated with women like endometriosis remain underfunded and researched. It’s the reason I had a bikini wax a year before my first smear test – a pattern of events I’m sure is not unfamiliar to many others.

The issue of health and cervical tests is a personal one, as I’m sure it is for every woman. After several cold and clinical smear tests in the past decade, I had an amazingly easy test at a GP clinic in north London. It was pain free. The nurse, a slightly older woman, had a no-fuss attitude and cracked a joke about why she was locking the door. She made me feel comfortable and she explained exactly what she was doing. (I discovered that laughing during the insertion of a speculum made for a more pleasant combo.)

After my most recent test, I was told I had “abnormal cells” that needed further examination and I was booked in for a colposcopy. Luckily, they didn’t need to take a biopsy after looking at my cervix in hospital. In truth, the colposcopy was the same as a smear – just a tad longer – and I admit I had built it up far too much in my mind.

Now I have four tips for women going for their first smear. First, please go. It’s important. Second, wear warm, cosy socks – it will make you feel less bare when you undress. Third, pop a paracetamol if you worried about feeling pain. Finally, and most importantly, arrange to do something fun immediately afterwards. For example, my friend and I went for brunch. (We did laugh about it, but only once the appointment was over.) The world is your oyster.

Put simply, if we can’t get over this silly squeamishness and embarrassment about women’s bodies, we will fail to achieve gender equality in women’s healthcare, and we will fail to achieve gender equality in general, by any meaningful measure.