Food/Diet | IBD | Relationships
Stacy hiking with her friend, Maggie.
My best friend, Maggie, and I love to share foods, recipes, and culinary inspiration back and forth. It probably started when we were in graduate school together more than twenty years ago, and the only restaurant either of us could usually afford was the Souper Salad buffet bar. All-you-can-eat soup, salad, and dessert on a grad student budget was a real treat during a long night of classes and studying. We shared meals there as often as we could, and we relished those evenings of sliding into a booth with our full plates and bowls and some downtime to talk and laugh. Sharing food was nourishment for our bodies, minds, and souls.
Fast forward a couple of decades, and we now live a thousand miles apart. Nevertheless, we have continued to connect over beloved foods. Over the years, we have shared pregnancy craving recipes, baby food ideas after our children were born, pictures of meals our husbands prepared from animals they hunted, and please-the-whole-family holiday dishes.
Maggie grew up in Russia and Ukraine and I grew up in the southeastern United States, so our cultural food experiences are different. I love the various ways we have learned from each other in the kitchen, either in person or from afar, growing and expanding our repertoires with each other’s help, and continuing a tradition of nourishment.
When I was unexpectedly diagnosed with Inflammatory Bowel Disease (IBD) three years ago (at the age of forty-four), my relationship with food changed significantly. I grieved the loss of some of my favorite foods and dishes; I lost interest in creative meals; and I felt like more foods were being “taken away” from me at every new medical appointment. Eating became a stressor rather than a comfort, and the things that I used to enjoy exploring and trying went out the window. I felt hopeless that I would ever be able to eat the way I had before. I missed the nourishment I had found in feeding myself and my family well in the past.
As anyone with IBD knows, grief and depression are a real part of dealing with the disease. The medical literature documents that rates of depression and anxiety are higher among people with IBD than in the general population. While research indicates there are likely some biological factors at play in that relationship, it also makes sense that the psychological impact of a life-altering diagnosis like IBD would be difficult to cope with. It certainly has been for me. I grieve my pre-diagnosis life and the things I took for granted then, the loss of foods I love, and the general good health I have enjoyed for most of my life. Navigating IBD can feel very isolating, as well, because the people close to us often do not understand what we are going through or how to be supportive. That’s where organizations like Girls With Guts can really be helpful.
Last year, when I embarked on an elimination diet at the recommendation of my GI provider to try to weed out foods that might be making my disease worse, I told Maggie about it. It would be six weeks of a very restricted diet, followed by several more weeks of slowly reintroducing foods while assessing for reactions. I was not looking forward to any of it. I complained, probably a little dramatically, until Maggie said, “I am going to do it with you,” without hesitation. “Send me the list of dos and don’ts and we’ll do it together.”
I never would have thought about asking someone to restrict themselves with an elimination diet unnecessarily, but Maggie volunteering to do it along with me was one of the kindest things someone has ever done for me.
One of Stacey’s snacks!
Maggie and I suffered through that diet together, but it actually turned out to be less suffering than I anticipated. Most certainly the factthat we were in it as a team made all the difference. Like in the old days, we sent recipes back and forth for new things we were trying with our “allowed” foods. We shared photos of dishes we enjoyed, we joked about being really tired of oatmeal (because how much oatmeal can one person actually eat?!), and we pre-planned some of our first reintroduction meals. The camaraderie in the process was everything and it absolutely kept me going so that I was able to successfully complete the elimination diet. Maggie did too!
Another side effect of this experience was that I no longer felt alone and isolated; someone else understood some of what I was going through. Maggie and I bonded over the shared experience of that elimination diet, and that made it a source of nourishment instead of just pure restriction. We built some lasting positive memories together through something that I had not anticipated being very pleasant. The experience also helped me remember that I had not actually been alone before; my loved ones wanted to be supportive and helpful; I just hadn’t known what to ask them for.
While I don’t necessarily recommend that we all choose a friend to force an elimination diet on, I do think that sometimes while we are engulfed in the world of chronic illness, it is important to tap into support from the people who love us, especially when it is hard. When we can connect with someone over a shared experience – be it an all-you-can-eat buffet, new recipes to try, or even diet restrictions – we build our support systems in real and lasting ways. We are nourished.
Of course, relationships are bidirectional, and what I have learned is that (1) we can ask our people to do hard things with us, and (2) we can show up for our people to do hard things with them. We grow and benefit from both. So, what might this look like in your life right now? What are the hard things you are facing that would be easier to stomach with someone by your side? And also – who do you know that could use you showing up for them, especially because it is really difficult? Where and how can you build some more nourishment into your life?
Stacey Owen is a wife and mother of three. She practiced as a psychologist before transitioning to a career as a homeschool educator ten years ago. She is passionate about advocating for issues related to mental and physical health, and she is learning to navigate a recent diagnosis of IBD. Stacey lives in Tennessee with her husband, three children, and pup and can usually be found teaching and exploring with her children, working and playing outdoors (hiking, camping, gardening, and beekeeping), traveling, and finding ways to be creative.
