When you’re diagnosed with Crohn’s disease or ulcerative colitis it’s a lot to process. When I started this blog in 2016 and after living with Crohn’s for nearly 19 years, my focus has always been to be the voice I needed to hear upon diagnosis and what it was like to experience young adulthood with a chronic illness. As a 21-year-old, fresh out of college, I had to navigate my career, finding love, and becoming a mom with IBD on my own. The first decade I wasn’t publicly sharing my story and didn’t know there was a patient community to tap into online for support.

Often as the years go by and we get beyond the initial shock of hearing the news and what this means for our lives, we tend to forget the challenges we faced to gain our footing. This week on Lights, Camera, Crohn’s I share some tokens of knowledge I’ve gained along the way that I hope will help you on your own journey, no matter where you find yourself at this moment.

Healing—physically, mentally, and emotionally is not linear. We all experience IBD uniquely—some people’s disease course is milder, others have it severe. We all cope differently with knowing and living with a chronic illness. Give yourself grace in the difficult moments. It’s ok to feel resentment or anger. It’s understandable to wonder at times “why me.” It’s “normal” to feel scared and anxious whether you’re a few weeks or a few decades in. Sometimes it’s taking things one hour at a time, other times it’s taking them one day at a time. Because of how quickly a flare up can strike, I try to live in the now and not worry about tomorrow.

You didn’t have control of getting your chronic illness, but you can control how you react and choose to heal from it. It’s easy to feel like you may be to blame if your health takes a turn for the worse. But understand this is not your fault. The unpredictability of IBD makes it feel like we’re often in the passenger seat and spiraling in circles, but this disease cannot control how you react, respond, and choose to heal from it. No matter what, you’re in control of the healing process. Whether it’s finding support through fellow patients and caregivers or through professional therapy, you won’t look back and you’ll be setting yourself up to take this on to the best of your ability.

There is no comparison game. Since the majority of people are diagnosed with IBD in their teens and into their 30s, it can be easy to try and measure your timeline and accomplishments to that of your peers who do not have chronic illness. It can also be tempting to look at people in the patient community who seem to have the world by the tail, when you’re struggling to get out of bed each day. This isn’t a competition of the sickest or a ploy to see who can smile through the pain and get more done. The only person you need to answer to, is who you see looking back in the mirror. You determine what you’re capable of and what you want in life. Your roadmap is yours and you’re right where you’re meant to be.

You set the benchmark for what’s possible. Your IBD is part of you, but it’s not your entire identity. Remember that even patient advocates are posting somewhat of a highlight reel. Even those who are working, in love, and parenting are dealing with their own struggles, too. My best advice would be to think about what you hope for in life (don’t even think of your IBD as part of the equation) and go after it. Yes, your health may cause some detours and roadblocks, but you won’t find your way unless you try.

No one knows your body better than you. I don’t care how many letters someone has after their name, they aren’t living in your body and experiencing what you feel each moment of every day. Be vocal when you need to be. Communicate as much as you can with your care team and paint the clearest picture of your reality. If you keep parts of your struggles to yourself or dumb down the severity of your day-to-day life, the only person you’re hurting is yourself. Learn about nutritional bloodwork and advocate for yourself to be tested for a full iron panel with Ferritin and Vitamin D. Get labs every 3-4 months so you can keep a finger on the pulse of what’s going on with your body. If you feel like your provider is being lackadaisical, don’t hesitate to get a second opinion. Take ownership of your health and find a provider who in your darkest moments you would feel most comfortable by your bedside in the hospital.

Make sure your GI specializes in IBD. There are gastroenterologists and there are gastroenterologists who specialize in Crohn’s and ulcerative colitis. Once you’re diagnosed with IBD, it’s imperative you try to find a GI who is an IBDologist. This can be tricky if you live in a rural area, it may mean you need to travel several hours to find a provider who fits the bill. If you move or are unsure of a good GI to check out, it’s helpful to reach out to your local Crohn’s and Colitis Foundation chapter and often they can help point you in the right direction.

Diet and stress levels matter. Read that again. Any doctor who tells you diet, and stress doesn’t impact your disease process is wrong. There are incredible registered dietitians throughout the US who specialize in IBD, and many of them have IBD themselves! Before you start restricting yourself or your child, make an appointment—most provide virtual options and this will help you get educated on what works best for you. What is a trigger for one person, isn’t necessarily a trigger for another. There isn’t a one-size-fits-all diet or else we would all do it.

Emotions will strike when you least expect them. Even almost 19 years in, I’ll sometimes break down and cry when I think about my Crohn’s or how it makes me feel. Just because you become a veteran patient doesn’t necessarily mean you fully ever heal from the hurt life with a chronic illness causes. It’s ok to have these moments where you may feel like you’re allowing your disease to control your emotions, you’re not. You’re human. It’s healthy to feel frustrated and to get emotional about what your life is like because you have IBD.

You’ve endured more than you give yourself credit for. As chronic illness patients we go through so much that often we don’t even bat an eye over experiences that would be extremely painful or stressful to the average person. Think about what a bad ass you are and how that carries over into each and everything you do in life. If you’re newly diagnosed you will get there—but even those initial weeks and months, you’re enduring more than the people who have their IBD under control and have a good handle on their body. No matter how many surgeries, scopes, scans, and IVs I’ve had, I always get a little teary eyed because it brings me back to 21-year-old me and then all the trauma that comes along with living with Crohn’s for 19 years. While those tears are sad, they also come from the strength of reflecting on what I’ve gone through to bring me to now.

Stay in tune with how your body is speaking to you through symptoms, do not ignore them. It can be challenging to communicate what you’re feeling to someone who does not have IBD. I get that. But by protecting loved ones, friends, and doctors from what you’re experiencing you’re preventing them from stepping in before it’s too late and before you know it your flare has gotten out of control and requires hospitalization. I used to be that person all the time. I would always internalize the pain, silently fighting through each day, doing anything possible to stay out of the hospital until the symptoms were simply unavoidable and required medical intervention. One hospitalization always sticks out in my mind. It was May 2009. I was a 25-year-old morning news anchor in Wisconsin. I was solo producing a 2-hour morning show dealing with horrible abdominal pain that kept making me throw up in the garbage can next to my desk in the newsroom as I struggled to put together the show. Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore and I had to call my co-anchor, who rushed me to the hospital. I was released from the ER hours later after my parents had driven from Chicago in the middle of the night only to return to the hospital that afternoon and have my dad carry me in his arms through the automatic doors. I was finally admitted and given the medical intervention I needed. Take it from me, you’re creating even more of an uphill climb for yourself if you don’t start speaking up when you initially notice something is awry.

The worst moments are just that, moments. When you hit your breaking point, when the pain seems overwhelming, and you can’t see the forest through the trees try to breathe. Go to your happy place. Recognize this is one day, one moment, I always tell myself “This too shall pass.” Go to your happy place mentally. Do mindfulness exercises. Shut out the outside world and focus on your breath. Detach from your body as best you can. Think of people who inspire you and bring you joy. Everything is fleeting. Each flare, each recovery, each prep, procedure, and surgery…it has a start and a finish. One day it will be a memory you talk about.

Pay attention to who is there when you when are quiet and when you’re going through the thick of it. IBD is too big to deal with alone. Lean on people you can trust, who you genuinely feel safe sharing your health woes with. This will be fewer people than you’d ever imagine. Be prepared to realize that many of the people you thought would be front and center to support you will be non-existent. It’s fine to mourn those friendships or relationships, but don’t waste your time or energy on them. Your disease will give you the ability to see who loves you and who wants to be present in not only the good times, but the bad. You can’t change people. Hold on tightly to the people who show up consistently, expecting nothing in return. Those are your people.

Emmanuel Acho shared a reel on Instagram recently that really hit home for me and caused me to reflect a bit on the people in my life and their roles. In the video he explains that friendship is like a house. You have your window, door, and floor friends. Window friends are outside looking in, they don’t know what’s going on in your house. They don’t have intimate access to what’s going on in your life. You can only let so many people into your house. Door friends come in and out of your life depending on the season. When life gets too hard or when your world turns cold, they might exit. Your friends might not be equipped for that season. Floor friends—aren’t going anywhere. You might track mud, but they will last regardless of the season. They are there to catch your tears and hear your fears. Remember—a house has more windows than it has doors and more doors than it does floors…if it has one good floor, you’re set.

Just because you need medication does not mean you’re taking the easy way out. I’ve been where you are. I remember lying helpless in a hospital bed and what it felt like to be told I needed to “break out the big guns” and start a biologic medication back in 2008 when there were only two options on the market for those with IBD. In that moment, we all naturally want to learn about side effects and what this could possibly mean for the long term. But please try and focus on the actual risk versus the benefit. As someone who has been on Humira since July 2008, I’m so grateful for my medication for allowing me to live a full life, bring babies into this world, and be a present, able-bodied, and active mom. It’s not all medicine, or all diet and lifestyle, often for many of us who have moderate to severe IBD we need a mix of both, and that’s ok. You can still thrive and be healthy, despite being on a medication with a black box label.

You are not a burden, and you deserve love. Any romantic partner who makes you feel less than, isn’t present when you need them most, or doesn’t show any empathy or interest in your daily reality isn’t going to stand the test of time. Use your IBD to your advantage to see your partner’s true colors. Be honest and upfront when you start dating and if you ever feel like you need to defend their actions or make excuses consider that a major red flag. Dating and marrying a person with a chronic illness isn’t for everyone, and that’s fine—but when it comes to people like you and me, we need a partner who is willing to take the challenge on beside us every step of the way. Find someone who you feel comfortable communicating openly with, who sees you for more than your disease.

IBD is not a battle to be “won” or “lost.” One of my pet peeves with any health condition or disease is when people say “so and so lost their battle”…they didn’t lose shit. Diseases are not a game. Oftentimes reaching remission is due to luck, disease severity, or surgery. I spent a decade of my life with active disease and have been in remission (thanks to surgery) for almost nine years. I don’t give myself credit for that, I’m not “winning.” It’s because of my efforts to stay diligent with my biologic, vitamins, safety labs, daily decisions, and check-ins with multiple specialists, but I also don’t think I’m at this point because of something special I’m doing compared to someone else. We’re all dealt a different hand of cards in life. Your IBD isn’t a win or lose situation—you’ll celebrate big victories and small ones, too, your disease can rob you at times, it’s a never-ending exchange and game of back and forth. You are not less than because you are flaring. You are not lazy for taking medication or failing because you struggle to follow a strict, regimented diet that may or may not help you. Once you stop thinking of everything as a “fight” it takes a bit of the stress, anger, and onus off your shoulders. IBD is a chronic illness, until there’s a cure, we’re in this situation until the day we die…that’s simply too long to be “fighting” anything.

Get ready to be extra proactive with your health. Due to the nature of our IBD and the medications many of us take, we are at greater risk for additional health problems. It’s important to get annual skin checks at the dermatologist. Make sure whether you have good vision or not that you’re seeing an eye doctor. Get cleanings at the dentist at least every six months. If you’re a female, make sure you get your well woman visits. We are greater risk for cervical cancer because many biologics don’t allow our bodies to fight off HPV, this may mean annual Pap smears. We’re also at an increased risk for breast cancer, so don’t delay your mammogram. Get a bone scan every 3-4 years, get one as close to diagnosis as you can so you have a baseline. Your GI may say it’s not necessary, it is. Steroids put us at risk for osteopenia and osteoporosis from an early age, this may mean you need to see a bone health doctor (yes, those exist). Those of us with IBD are at greater risk for pelvic pain, it can be helpful to see a Pelvic Floor Therapist who addresses those unique needs.

Faith can give you added strength and comfort. I understand faith is very individualized and looks different for each of us, but I can tell you as someone who is Greek Orthodox who has always been a faithful and prayerful person that I rely on my faith to guide me through my IBD each and every day. There’s a sense of comfort and hope that comes with believing God is watching over you through the good, the bad, and everywhere in between. When you’re diagnosed or flaring, it can test your faith. Hold on tightly to what you believe and lean on that (however it looks for you). I truly believe God gives his toughest lessons to his greatest teachers. One of my biggest fears as an IBD mom of 3 is that one of my children will get my disease one day. Each night before bed, I always pray with them and say, “keep my babies healthy, safe, and strong.”

Family planning takes time and effort. Just because you have IBD does not mean you can’t be a biological mom or dad one day. The journey will look a bit different, but this disease does not necessarily need to rob you of the experience if that’s what you want in your life. Communicate these desires with your GI so they can help prep your body for a baby. This can mean starting a prenatal vitamin and folic acid several months before trying. I had a colonoscopy before every pregnancy so that I could be given the ‘green light’ by my GI that we were cleared to try for a baby. When I was pregnant, my care was overseen by my OB, a maternal fetal medicine OB (high risk), and my GI. Unless you have perianal disease, you can have a vaginal birth, but oftentimes this is a discussion left to you and your care team. I personally chose to have 3 scheduled c-sections, because while I don’t have perianal Crohn’s, I didn’t want to risk tearing or causing a fistula to form. I would make the same choice if I had to do it all over again. I also stayed on my biologic through conception, pregnancy, and breastfeeding. These are all personal choices but there are many, many research studies available that show the safety and efficacy of doing so. If you feel you could have internal scarring due to past surgeries that could hinder your fertility, check in with a fertility specialist and have them help you investigate if there could be issues.

Educate yourself on insurance, prior authorizations, specialty pharmacies, and Pharmacy Benefit Managers (PBMS). Unfortunately, with IBD we are forced to do so much behind-the-scenes work to simply receive treatment and medication. You will waste countless hours and endless energy on the phone as these people give you the run around. Nobody ever seems to want to take ownership. Work with your gastroenterologist if you are denied a medication so they can write an appeal letter to insurance and go to bat for you. Stay on top of everything, don’t worry about annoying anybody. You gotta hustle. You gotta be frank and assertive. It’s not about hurting feelings; it’s about making sure people are doing their jobs and ensuring your course of treatment doesn’t get delayed because someone fumbles some paperwork. Our medications are time sensitive. Light a fire under people’s ass if you’re not getting responses you deserve. One of my friends on social media posted this over the weekend, “Managing specialty medications in January is an annual slap in the face to chronically ill people.” It sure is. This week will mark the first time I’ve ever received my injections late in the mail, due to a misstep in my GI office that I had to follow up on for over a week. Be extra proactive at the start of each year. Make sure your GI informs you about all the patient savings programs available, these can help you not only emotionally, but also financially.

You get the final say. No one but you gets to say what you do with your body. If a doctor wants you to do an enema before a scope and you don’t want to, don’t. If you don’t feel comfortable with taking a certain medication and your care provider keeps pushing it, they can’t physically make you pop a pill, take an injection, or receive an infusion. You must do your research, educate yourself every day, feel empowered by all you know and be ready to deal with the ramifications if you go against the grain or determine you want to try something differently. There’s not one “right” way to live with IBD. Be honest with your provider. Don’t say you’re taking a medication and then not take it, that’s not helping anyone or anything. Be a compliant patient, but an educated and empowered one at the same time. Measure all the risks and benefits and what your hopes and dreams are for your present life and for your future. Don’t ever feel like someone else can or should dictate what path your journey takes. Just because one biologic is a magic bullet for one person doesn’t mean it will be for you. You never fail treatments, they fail you. If a provider says “oh, you failed Remicade” … please correct them. “No, Remicade failed me.”

I write this as a 40-year-old mom of three—ages 6, 5, and 2.5 years old, married for almost 8 years, who has been on a biologic since 2008, who was diagnosed at age 21 in 2005. So much has changed for the better regarding the patient experience since that time. My perspective has come a long way. I used to be right where you are, so many are living your current reality. Instagram is the bread and butter for the patient community, that’s where you’ll find the most patients and caregivers transparently sharing. Follow the accounts, send a DM, comment on reels and posts, get engaged. Never hestitate to connect and reach out to me–natalieannhayden. Educate yourself through lived experiences and people who have paved the way for you, rather than Google. You don’t need to recreate the wheel, but this is your experience and your story. You get the final word on how you want each chapter to play out. Know each time you fall you will bounce back and that there’s a massive community of support here to catch you and cheer you on every step of the way as you rise once again.