Irritable bowel syndrome (IBS)

Summary of Rebecca’s Story

 

 

From Physical Symptoms to a Broader Explanation

 

Rebecca lives in Rochester, New York, and describes how she spent roughly half her life living with chronic pain and gastrointestinal symptoms. Her first symptoms appeared when she was around fourteen. She mainly experienced constipation and abdominal pain and was known among her friends as the person who almost always had stomach trouble. Only much later did she recognise that the onset and worsening of her symptoms coincided with periods of intense stress. In the year her symptoms began, both of her parents experienced serious health problems and accidents, and the family also had to say goodbye to their dog. For Rebecca, that period felt not only sad but also unsafe and overwhelming.

In her early twenties, during her master’s degree and later during the COVID-19 pandemic, her symptoms expanded. The abdominal pain became more severe, and she developed intense shoulder pain. As a result, she could no longer practise yoga regularly, carry heavy belongings or move house independently. Foot pain developed later, again during a difficult period in her family. The symptoms varied in location and character, but they shared a pattern: they appeared or worsened mainly during stressful phases. They severely restricted her daily life, work, movement and social activities.

A Childhood Filled with Responsibility

To understand her symptoms, Rebecca looks back on her childhood. She moved when she was eight, which separated her from her familiar surroundings. Around the transition to secondary school, she became increasingly conscious of her body. Social media, advertising, comments from others and mild bullying intensified her insecurity. As a young competitive swimmer, she considered herself overweight and compared herself with thinner peers. She began exercising excessively and eating too little. While a great deal was happening at home, she also developed a harsh inner voice telling her that she was not good enough.

Her parents’ illnesses and accidents placed a great deal of responsibility on her at a young age. Her mother had survived breast cancer and was later hit by a car while driving, leaving her barely mobile for an entire summer. Because her father worked full-time, Rebecca helped at home, cared for her mother, cooked for the family and tried to keep the household calm and cohesive. Her father was later struck by a car while running, and for a time it was uncertain whether he would survive. Rebecca therefore learnt early to plan, care for others and remain alert. She felt older than her peers and believed she could not simply relax or take part in ordinary teenage life without worry.

These experiences contributed to traits that later appeared to play a role in her symptoms: perfectionism, a strong sense of responsibility, people-pleasing, worry and fear. Rebecca often focused first on other people’s needs, while her own feelings and needs receded into the background. She became highly skilled at suppressing or rationalising emotions because something else always seemed more important than what she herself was feeling. Looking back, she understands that her body may have continued responding to emotions she did not consciously allow herself to experience.

A long medical search

For years, Rebecca searched for a physical explanation. She consulted several specialists, underwent numerous blood tests and other examinations, and attended physiotherapy for about three years. She received several diagnoses, including irritable bowel syndrome, gastritis and acid reflux. After a second endoscopy showed no further signs of gastritis, she continued taking medication that barely helped because there was no alternative explanation. The repeated tests and diagnoses unintentionally reinforced her belief that something must be seriously wrong with her body.

She also tried to manage her symptoms through food. From secondary school onwards, she followed vegetarian, vegan, gluten-free and pescatarian diets in succession. Strikingly, during a trip through Europe, when she began eating everything again, she experienced hardly any symptoms. During her master’s degree, however, the symptoms intensified significantly. Around 2020, she developed a burning sensation in her stomach and eliminated spicy and acidic foods. Later, she followed a very strict low-FODMAP diet for two years, avoiding coffee, alcohol, gluten, dairy and many vegetables. Ultimately, she could identify no clear relationship between what she ate and the severity of her symptoms.

The restrictions made her fear of food increasingly intense. After several episodes of food poisoning, she barely dared to eat out for years, ate the same safe meals at home and constantly monitored her body. Her attempt to gain control only narrowed her life further. She continued working, but much of her enjoyment and spontaneity disappeared. The medical focus on possible damage, abnormalities and forbidden foods perpetuated a cycle of fear, physical sensations and still more fear.

The Turning Point: Neuroplasticity and Safety

A major breakthrough came when a functional gastroenterologist asked her to create a timeline of her symptoms, flare-ups and life events. For the first time, Rebecca clearly saw that her symptoms coincided with stress. At the same time, she was using Curable, a programme offering education and exercises related to neuroplastic pain. She learnt that real and severe pain does not necessarily indicate tissue damage or a serious physical condition. In an effort to protect the body, the brain can continue producing pain and other symptoms when the nervous system anticipates danger.

The realisation that her body was safe became the foundation of her recovery. That confidence did not arise immediately: after years of diagnoses, tests and warnings, she continued to wonder whether a physical problem might still have been overlooked. Advice from healthcare providers about new diets, rest or physical treatments could reactivate that old fear. Gradually, she learnt to recognise such reactions as triggers rooted in her medical history. Instead of treating every signal as a threat, she practised reassuring her body and directing her attention towards stress, emotions and circumstances.

Rebecca worked with pain reprocessing therapy and later with a therapist who practises intensive short-term dynamic psychotherapy. She learnt to notice her defence mechanisms: explaining feelings instead of experiencing them, helping others when she herself needed support, or concealing her own needs behind rational explanations. For her, recovery did not mean eliminating emotions, but remaining present with them attentively and compassionately. Fear, sadness, anger and tension were allowed to exist without her immediately having to suppress them or convert them into physical explanations.

Self-Care, Boundaries and Recovery

An essential part of her recovery was learning to make time devoted solely to her own joy. In the past, she would readily call or message someone else to offer help before considering her own wellbeing. She now protects her boundaries more consciously, including in her professional role as a caregiver. She understands that caring for herself is not selfish: when she is well, she can also support others more sustainably and meaningfully.

Movement once again became a source of freedom rather than threat. Rebecca rock climbs, teaches yoga, and meditates daily. While climbing, she can be fully present, spend time with friends and experience what her body is capable of. Whereas shoulder and foot pain once held her back, she can now often climb without chronic pain. Her relationship with food also changed radically: she can once again eat a wide variety of foods, dine out and cook without constantly fearing the consequences.

Her relationships changed as well. In the past, she often assumed the caregiving role and invested a great deal without receiving equal support in return. This harmed both her mental and physical wellbeing. Today, she is in a loving, reciprocal relationship in which both partners value independence, self-care and mutual support. Her partner encouraged her during her recovery, reminded her that she was safe and helped her rebuild confidence in her body and in food. In her friendships, too, she now chooses more consciously to surround herself with people who remain present not only during enjoyable moments but also through difficult times.

From personal experience to meaningful work

Rebecca works at the University of Rochester, where she leads the Mindful University Project. The initiative promotes collective wellbeing through daily yoga and mindfulness classes, retreats and mindful leadership training for staff. Her personal experience has deepened her motivation to teach students alternative ways of approaching chronic pain. She contributes to a programme combining pain reprocessing, somatic approaches, and emotional awareness and expression, supplemented by coaching. She hopes this will not only reduce pain but also support wellbeing, academic performance and connectedness across the campus community.

She has also launched her own coaching practice, combining pain reprocessing with mindfulness, yoga and a broad mind–body perspective. Because she knows first-hand the financial burden of prolonged medical care, she wants to keep her support affordable and accessible. Her aim is to help people understand that severe symptoms are real but do not always indicate physical damage, and that recovery can become possible as fear diminishes and safety, self-compassion and emotional space increase.

The heart of her story

Ultimately, Rebecca’s story is not only about the disappearance of abdominal, shoulder and foot pain. It is about learning to trust her body again and acknowledging the burden she carried as a child. For a long time, she saw herself mainly as someone who had to be strong, solve problems and set feelings aside. By taking her past seriously, she came to understand that her symptoms were not a sign of weakness but were connected to a nervous system that had remained vigilant for years.

Her recovery emerged from a combination of knowledge, practice, therapy, support and new experiences of safety. She learnt to recognise fear loops, allow emotions, set boundaries, welcome joy and choose relationships in which care is mutual. As a result, she regained not only her freedom of movement and varied diet but also a stronger sense of self-worth. Her experience of chronic pain thus became part of a broader transformation: from surviving and constantly caring for others to a life in which she also grants herself protection, attention and joy.

Source: ATNS