Hey {{first_name}},
For the first two years of my first proper relationship, I was completely convinced she was going to leave me, but not because of anything she was doing, saying, or thinking.
We'd started dating before I got really ill. However, a few months into the relationship, I started to develop my IBS. Physically and mentally I was a wreck, and the thing that wouldn't leave me alone was this constant, quiet thought.
Why is she still here?
I was so insecure about it that I'd basically pre-grieved the relationship. I'd convinced myself it was only a matter of time. Because in my head, I'd become my gut issues. I wasn't Zak who happened to have IBS, I was the IBS, with a person attached to it and I couldn't understand why anyone would choose to stay with that.
This stuff is hard to admit but I think a lot of you reading this will know exactly what I'm talking about.
The fear that your health condition is a red flag people will run from. The guilt of being a burden to the people who love you. The dread of even starting something in the first place, because of how vulnerable you'd have to be about the bits of yourself you're trying to hide.
We ended up staying together for almost 2 years and eventually broke up over completely different beliefs (nothing to do with IBS), in a really mature and kind way that still baffles me. It took me years after that to actually understand what had been happening the whole time.
When someone genuinely loves you, they don't see your health issues the way you see them.
You see your IBS as the end of the world. They see it as a challenge to work through together. You see yourself as a burden. They see someone they want to help feel loved. The story you've written about yourself is not the story they're reading.
But here's the part nobody talks about, and it's the part that genuinely matters.
The reason that relationship worked (and ended so well), even through the worst of my illness, wasn't just that she chose to stay. It was that I didn't let myself become a victim of it. Throughout all of it, even when I was at my most uncomfortable, I never gave up trying to live a normal life with her. We still travelled. We still ate out at restaurants. We still did all the stuff a normal couple would do.
And most of the time it was incredible but I felt awful. Most of the time it made me feel worse.
But I wasn't doing it for me. I was doing it for her.
That mindset, I want to try and be better for you, regardless of how I feel, is in my opinion the single most important thing if you're navigating a relationship with a health condition, because it flips the script. You're no longer the burden in the relationship. You're the one still fighting, still showing up, still trying to serve the person you love.
And when both people are doing that, you stop counting who's giving more. You start serving each other.
I'm not saying any of this is easy. It isn't. There were stretches where I felt like I was running on empty and the last thing I wanted to do was put on a brave face and go to dinner. But the alternative, slowly disappearing into the illness and letting her watch it happen, would have been so much worse for both of us. It was tough but it was incredibly rewarding.
Relationships built on self sacrifice and service produce love and peace as a result, regardless of the state of your health.
This week's practical tip
If you're in a relationship and you're struggling with your gut, do one small thing this week purely for them. Not because you feel like it. Not because you have the energy. Just because you love them.
Make them their favourite meal. Plan the night out you'd normally talk yourself out of. Send them a message in the middle of the day for no reason.
You're not pretending to be okay. You're telling your brain, and them, that the illness doesn't get to be the loudest thing in the room.
This week's mindset
You are not your gut issues. You are someone who happens to be navigating them, and the people who genuinely love you can see that even when you can't.
Keep showing up for them. The peace comes from the showing up, not from the absence of symptoms.
See you next week.
Actually, one last thing before I go.
In a few days I'm launching an app I've been quietly working on for the last year. It's everything I wish I'd had when I was at my worst. All my recipes in one place, plus a camera that can analyse any meal, menu or ingredients list and tell you what's actually safe for your gut.
The first week is completely free, every feature unlocked, no pressure to continue after.
And I want to be really clear about this. If you want to download it, use it for that week to cook something nice for someone you love, and then delete it before the trial is up, I'd be genuinely happy with that.
The camera analysis actually costs me money to run, so in a way I'm the one paying for your week and I promise I'm completely fine with that. I'd be honoured to have something I've made help create such a great time.
I built this because I believe in it that much. If it helps you treat yourself or that special someone for one week, then to me it was worth it :)
Zak