I remember watching all different kinds of ostomy bags in proctology ambulance. I could not imagine that such monstrosity should be attached to my stomach. I thought nobody would like me walking naked around the apartment with a poop sack. I secretly cried in the night, hoping my intestine would hang on.
Crohn’s eventually triumphed, and I had to give in to destiny. Better a sack than death. We’ll see what happens next. The first few months peeking at the freshly cut belly and swollen new ostomy was not easy. But I started to physically feel better, so I slowly started to like it. On the other hand, I was so ashamed about it! I declared war against fear and started talking about my ostomy openly. To my surprise I only received compliments like “Wow, you look great, I could not tell what you been through!”
Positive reactions of my friends helped me to reassess my negative attitude to intimate relationships. I communicated my handicap directly, to prevent problems. I was super open on the outside. But super scared on the inside. Fearful of rejection, disgust, regret. No such thing happened, on the contrary. To them, I was a hero. All my issues were again only in my head.
Slowly, my trampled self-esteem grew. I did not feel sorry for myself anymore, I became a strong woman and a survivor. My scars made me stronger. Somebody is born without legs or arms, blind or deaf, too bold, too hairy… Nobody is perfect.
Understanding beauty comes with age. I finally understand, that I don’t have to look like Heidi Klum for somebody to love me. We should cherish the inner beauty, the outside is just a cherry on top of the cake. If you are happy inside and with yourself, it will manifest on your appearance and the energy you give to people. No one will be interested if you poop in a sack or you lack a leg 😊