Lucía: Living With IBS and Asking for Access
For as long as I can remember, my body has needed a little more attention than most. Even as a child, there was always a quiet awareness in the background, a need to stay close to familiar places and to notice things other people never had to think about. Over time, I learned that this constant alertness had a name. I live with irritable bowel syndrome, a condition that has been part of my life for so long that it feels woven into the way I move through the world, shaping my routines, my choices, and the way I experience everyday situations.
IBS influences my days in ways that are mostly invisible to the people around me. I plan ahead more than most people, I scan every space the moment I walk in, and I automatically look for signs of a toilet, even in places where there is no public restroom and no clear expectation that visitors would ever need one urgently. The hardest part has never been the condition itself, but having to explain it. Talking about bowel issues still carries a lot of unspoken shame, and even though I know it is a medical condition, it can feel deeply personal and uncomfortable to explain in public, especially when time is running out and my body is already under stress.
Avoiding the explanation
For a long time, I avoided asking altogether, leaving places early, skipping moments I wanted to be part of, or pushing myself to stay calm while my body was clearly asking for help, simply because I did not want to stand there and explain something so intimate to a stranger. Those moments were exhausting in ways that had nothing to do with physical symptoms alone, but with the constant effort of hiding, managing, and minimizing my needs.
"Not having to explain myself in moments of urgency has changed how I move through the world."
Carrying something that gives confidence
Now I carry an International Disability Card with me, and while I do not use it often and it usually stays quietly in my bag, knowing it is there has changed how I feel in situations where urgency meets hesitation and fear of being judged. There have been many moments where there was no visitor toilet, where staff bathrooms were clearly marked as off limits, and where that familiar wave of panic started to rise, and instead of trying to explain everything, I showed the card. More often than not, people and businesses responded with understanding and trust, allowing me to use the toilet without questions or uncomfortable conversations.
That response has meant more to me than I expected, not because the card fixes my IBS or removes difficult days, but because it removes the need to expose myself emotionally in moments where I already feel vulnerable and gives me back a sense of control. Travel has become easier too, because airports, cafés, stations, and unfamiliar places feel less intimidating when I know I have a simple way to communicate my needs, even when language barriers or time pressure make talking difficult.
Less shame, more freedom
The shame is still there sometimes, but it no longer defines my choices. Carrying the card makes me feel stronger, calmer, and more confident in advocating for myself when my body needs something, without feeling like I have to justify or apologize for it. Most of the time, it stays out of sight, but knowing it is with me gives me freedom, trust in myself, and the quiet confidence to move through the world on my own terms.
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*Some stories may use stock images because the writer preferred not to share a personal photo. In some cases, names have been changed to protect privacy. The experiences shared remain real and personal.
