by Michelle Garber (California, U.S.A.)
Inspired by Mean Girls and high school yearbooks, I created an “IBD Burn Book” to shed light on the invisibility of IBD and emphasize the importance of empathy when interacting with someone with IBD.
When you first open the Burn Book, you’ll see that my “Mask” has been crowned Prom Queen. The images on this page are from moments when I had my mask on—when I pretended to be “fine.” The background words reflect how others perceive me more positively when I wear this mask, which is why it was elected Prom Queen.
The next page is a Student Feature of my Inner Thoughts. Here, I am without my mask. This contrast serves as a reminder that appearances can be deceiving—what you see on the outside isn’t always real; it might just be a mask.
Following that is a Not Hot List, which consists of a collection of phrases people should never say to someone with IBD. (Sadly, every one of these remarks has been said to me).
The final page of the Burn Book is a WANTED poster—for empathy. Instead of harmful comments, this page lists empathetic phrases one should say to someone with IBD. Essentially, it serves as the “Hot List” in Mean Girls or high school terminology.
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Invisible illnesses come with their own set of challenges—such as a widespread lack of awareness—but the focus here is how easily someone with IBD can hide their struggles. Smiling through the pain, pretending to feel well—it becomes second nature. I’m not the first person to wear a “mask” to feel accepted or to make others comfortable, and I certainly won’t be the last.
The reality, though, is that IBD is a constant battle. Even if you see me dancing with friends, traveling, or enjoying a big meal, I am still struggling. The takeaway? You never truly know what someone else is going through, so always choose kindness. More importantly, choose empathy. If you do know what someone is going through (specifically IBD in this case), be especially mindful of your words and actions. While you might assume your words and actions don’t affect us, remember—we’ve had a lot of practice hiding our pain.