When I first heard the words, “You have Crohn’s disease,” it was the worst feeling ever. It wasn’t just the shock of the diagnosis, but the realisation of what it meant for my life.
The freedom I had taken for granted, like waking up, feeling healthy, going through my day without concern was gone. It’s hard to describe the emotional horror of suddenly being told that your body is betraying you, that the excruciatingly painful illness I’d had for the last month will forever be a part of me. It’s like being trapped in a body that is out to get me.
At first, I struggled to grasp the reality of living with a stomach that could attack me at any moment, changing the course of my day, or my week. There were times I couldn’t leave my house, couldn’t go to school, couldn’t see my friends. The physical pain was immediate and relentless: tiredness, pain, the uncertainty of never knowing when the next flare-up might hit. It felt like my freedom to simply live was being stripped away. What used to be a simple daily routine became awful, tiring and painful.
At first, I felt powerless, as if I was a punchbag for my body. But over time, I learned that while I couldn’t control the disease, I could control how I responded to it. Freedom wasn’t about doing everything I once could, it was about finding ways to live through the pain.
I started with small steps like adjusting my diet, sticking to my treatment plan, and learning to manage stress. The more I took control over what I could, the better I felt. But the real difficulty came when I figured out that freedom was as much about mindset as it was about physical health. I stopped seeing myself as a victim and began seeing myself as someone who can still lead a full life despite my condition.
Support from my family and friends helped reinforce this. They reminded me that they would help me no matter what. That sense of family made a big difference. Slowly, I reclaimed a version of myself that felt strong, capable, and free—someone who could live fully, even in the face of uncertainty.
Freedom, I’ve started to realise, isn’t about being free from pain or restrictions. It’s about finding moments of peace and strength despite them. Living with Crohn’s means that I can never escape the reality of my condition. The pain, fatigue, and unpredictability are constant. But rather than feeling sorry for myself, I’ve learned that freedom exists in how I choose to live with these challenges.
There are days when the weight of it all feels unbearable, when the pain is too much, and I long for the freedom of a “normal” life. But it’s on those days that I remind myself that living through the pain is still a form of freedom. It’s about deciding to keep going,
even when things aren’t easy. I’ve found that freedom lies not in avoiding struggle, but in choosing how I react to it.
Some days, the hardest part is the unpredictability. You can never quite plan for a flare-up and the annoyance of not knowing how you’ll feel tomorrow or next week is always there. It’s a mental challenge as much as it is a physical one. But through it all, I’ve
started to see that freedom isn’t about controlling every aspect of my life—it’s about
how I respond to those awful moments. I’ve learned to embrace the pain, accepting that some things are beyond my control, but my choices are not. Each day is a chance to rebuild myself, to reframe the narrative that Crohn’s will make my life worse and find something meaningful, even in the darkest of moments.
And while I can’t always predict when things will get tough, I can choose how I approach those times. I’ve learned to embrace the support of those around me, to prioritise my mental and emotional well-being as much as my physical health. It’s about building a life where freedom doesn’t just look like a world without challenges, but a life where I have the strength to meet those challenges head-on.
In the end, I’ve realised that freedom isn’t about the absence of pain or hardship. It’s about how we live through it. It’s the small victories—getting through a tough day of school, watching Leeds win after a long week, and having the strength to keep moving forward, even when it feels like everything is against you.
So even now, as I type this on my phone while lying in a hospital bed with a Gail’s cinnamon roll in hand, I know I am free. I may not be free from Crohn’s, but I will never let it control me. And that, to me, is enough.