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This blog post is a little different to previous ones. It will be tackling something opposing the point of this blog: discomfort. In particular, bodily discomfort, focusing on one aspect specifically: IBS. It’s awkward, frustrating and something a lot of people live with. So, by writing down my experience of discovering and managing it, I hope to bring you comfort in knowing you are not alone

There are very few things I share with my icon, Cher. She, an international pop-sensation, award winning actress and all-round entrepreneurial wonder-woman; me, a humble, no-body of a writer and (attempted) musician. But what I have recently discovered is that our highly glamorous inability to break down certain food is something of a common ground for us. I will (begrudgingly) take it!

The starting point

The beep sounded spurring the surgery board to light up with my name, and everyone else around to jump out of their waiting room seats.

“Ok, we’ve got it," said the doctor, "gluten, dairy and a few other things look like the source.” He looked at the four-page glossary of foods analysing what I'd ticked and crossed: a task that was crucial after my eventual diagnosis of IBS had been confirmed.

... Diagnosis sounds over the top. It is not, by any means, as serious as the word embodies. There are many things worse than IBS, but in the thick of it, it is the pits.

"One bite won't hurt!"

Normally, whenever I discreetly let people know I have IBS – and only when invasively probed with, “C’mon, why can’t you eat this? One bite won’t hurt!” – they assume it is simply (apologies) bathroom trouble – gross, I know – but actually, many don’t know the half of it.

Irritable Bowel Syndrome is difficult to pin-point. There’s no easy test that determines yes or no. It is not life threatening, though it is extremely common: 11% of the population fall prey to it, and one in 10 Brits are sufferers. It’s awkward, uncomfortably painful and embarrasing.

Lucky for us gals, IBS loves to cling to women more so than men affecting almost double the amount. But let’s be honest, we are biologically built to deal with it better. We eat pain for breakfast; periods begin at about 13, week-long cramps occur, headaches, bloating and agony on a monthly cycle, leading to pregnancy then childbirth. So, it’s no wonder why most women crack on with their day and just wait for the storm to pass.

But I wasn't up for living in constant pain paired with discomfort and a fear of eating out in case of a reaction… so I wanted it gone. I didn’t want classic FOMO because of a niggling, pathetic miscommunication between brain and gut.

Baby steps

Second year of university in Leeds is where it showed its face. I was stressed, unhappy – heartbroken - and had just started on my summer goal to get well and truly fit; ‘freshers-15’ got me good. A winning combination to kick-start my symptoms. It’s common for symptoms to first appear during the peak of young adulthood: your 20s and 30s. And these signs can be minimal or crippling for each individual.

IBS tends to stem from psycho-social elements (anxiety, stress, worry) as well as possible environmental or genetic issues reports an article by Women’s Health, so it’s no surprise I had some internal upset. Typically, IBS consists of one or a combination of these dazzling indicators: abdominal pain, diarrhoea, constipation, bloating or mucus – lovely, I know.

For me, it was nausea, bloating and pain… after every meal.

No, no. Definitely not because I was pregnant.

“Let’s just make sure…” said the first doc, accusatorially during my first trip but soon sent me off with no answers.

I was 1000% sure. I had been celibate since a heart-wrenching break up the previous year and had sworn off men until I had fixed me – self-discovery and all that jazz.

“Maybe, this is a reaction of heartbreak?” I hoped. All I needed was to simply glue my heart back together and BINGO, cured! Fixing myself externally will remedy my feelings internally, right?

This thought challenged me to fast become a gym bunny eating exceptionally well. I lost weight and became aesthetically ‘fit’. What I thought would help and make me feel better.

Alas, it didn’t. When the time came for me to check out of heartbreak hotel, acid reflux, more unwarranted bloating and pain sucker punched me in the belly.

Confusion struck me down. Happy – check. Healthy – check. Physically and mentally sound? … To an extent.

My social life was fine, so I thought, it must be what putting in my body. But I didn't think it was necessarily doctor worthy, so I tried some things on my own: coconut water, Greek yoghurt, less stodgy food at night, in the morning, kefir among many other things were tested. I tried drinking less – as a student, that does not bode well in the culture - and though a few cocktails less a week helped my head, it did no wonders for my problem.

I gave in and went to the doctors once again to find the solution. Different comprehensive checks were completed and the blood tests came back normal - iron was a little dodgy, but that’s the case for 20% of women, 50% of whom are pregnant according to WebMD.

I went back to my surgery 4 times in the space of a year to figure it out, until finally, the greatest practitioner of medicine I'd ever seen brought out the goods – the low FODMAP diet guide – it seems simple and completely un-worthy of excitement, but if you went through what my body did, then you'd be partying.

Foods that are NOT part of a low FODMAP diet (made with Canva)

FODMAP

For many IBS sufferers, food = medicine. What and how you eat is crucial in keeping on top of it. In severe cases other prescriptions can be brought in, and if it is psychosomatic then treatment for mental health may be prescribed. For me, low fodmap foods and carbon tablets did the trick.

This extensive list of what not to have was undoubtedly overwhelming – especially for a student on a budget: it was not fun. Thankfully, many items I was told to avoid, I happily obliged – raw onions, turnips, dairy (I never liked milk as a child… not even milkshakes). Whittling it down was the only hurdle as I’d regularly have an internal debate, ending up in the foetal position:

“Just one bite won’t hurt…” I’d think.

My IBS: “Let’s get her, lads!”

Dedication is key

To find the culprit, you must be thorough. Once tried and tested - and after what will probably be a long and painful elimination process, soz - you will find your culinary enemies and live in wondrous intestinal harmony.

A quick word for those who are necessarily gluten and dairy free. People will mistake you for being in the dietary choice ‘-arian’ crew. Vegetarian, pescatarian, fruitarian, vegan… so, be forewarned and prepare an explanation.

It’s easy to manage now and am glad I did reach out to my doctors and honestly, it’s been a long, awkward and uncomfortable road, but if you are reading this and think, “this sounds like me,” then GIRL, you are not alone. Cher and I are with you all the way.

So, if you have any inkling that you may have this condition, I implore you to visit your doctor or try the low FODMAP diet. From personal experience, it is WORTH IT, and with so many food options in today’s market, it is EASY.

I do have one slight confession to make. Since managing my intolerances, I (not so) secretly have a grudge against anyone who chooses to be free from gluten or dairy ‘as a lifestyle’. If it’s for health reasons, sure. But just for the sake of it… as a fad?! It’s just cruel. A kick in the teeth. A slap in the face. I’m not judging, just grudging as I cover my green eyes with rip-off Ray Berri's.

Simply, I’m grumpy because I cannot eat it without reaping the consequences. So please, if you can, go forth and enjoy your whole-gluten-filled penne with lashings of parmesan and cheese-sauce just because. And I will gladly be a pocket of ravioli filled to the fork indentations with happiness for you.

Thanks

x