Companion Magazine Issue 6 by Companion Magazine for IBD

THE MINI SUMMER ISSUE

FAQ SUMMER GUIDE

YOUR BIGGEST QUESTIONS

for the summer months answered

LIFE WITH A J-POUCH

why you can be “normal”

STAYING POSITIVE WITH ANY DIAGNOSIS

spring spotlight stories bravery, dedication, support

GUTLESS & GLAMOROUS making living with chronic illness fabulous! JUNE 2015

V1, ISSUE 6

JUNE 2015

MINI SUMMER ISSUE

FEATURES + COVER STORIES:

being unstoppable a story of being positive in diagnosis

LETTER FROM THE EDITOR

life is a gift how chronic illness changed his life

11 how one man turned his

EVERY DAY IS A GIFT

illness into a blessing

SUMMER GUIDE 5 FAQ your summer questions

FORGETTING PERFECTION 13 how life with a jpouch can

8 UNSTOPPABLE how one woman embraced

& GLAMOROUS 18 GUTLESS a look into the organization

are answered

her diagnosis

be more normal than you think

healing forgetting perfection in order to be better

LETTER FROM THE EDITOR As I sit in my office 2 hours past when my work day was supposed to end (happily and healthfully doing so with my jpouch), I think about how I would have felt if I was in the same situation, but 2 years ago. I’ve said before in blog posts and articles that the spring time always reminds me of being sick. I know that’s strange and I probably shouldn’t look at it that way, but it does. Not in a negative way, but in a way that makes me stop and think, “Was that really my life?” This time 2 years ago, I was bed ridden and in complete denial of my current health state. I refused to talk to anyone about having my colon removed and decided that I was probably just going to remain sick for the rest of my life. My then current extreme circumstances and symptoms would reside at some point, right? Totally wrong. That’s when my wakeup call happened in July of 2013. I was told that I could either lose my life, or lose my colon. I’ll never forget my state in my surgeon’s office that hot July day. Everything blurred together and nothing made sense. How was this happening? Is this really me? What am I going to do now? What I failed to understand at that point in time is that it wasn’t the end of the world. Having an ostomy was an incredible gift and I began forcing myself to think that way 2 hours after I found out I had to have one for a year. I very vividly remember thinking as I took 2 pain killers while sitting in my impromptu pre-op at the Cleveland Clinic, “I can either sit in my room, cry or mope for the next 10-12 months, or I can get up, brush myself off and educate myself and others.” I had to push all fear aside. People talk a lot about having a survival mode. I can personally tell you that there is nothing more true.

STAFF

BROOKE BOGDAN EDITOR - IN - CHIEF KRISTIN HARRIS GRAPHIC DESIGNER EDITOR CONTRIBUTOR GAYLYN HENDERSON FASHION EDITOR CONTRIBUTOR EMMA CHAPPLE BEAUTY & LIFESTYLE EDITOR CONTRIBUTOR RASHEED CLARK EDITOR CON

CONTRIBUTORS BROOKE B. RASHEED C. GAYLYN H. EMMA C. JORDAN W. KATRINA M.

When going through a personal tragedy or heartbreak (and I’m talking MAJOR situations, not like, my boyfriend broke up with me, or I have no money in my bank account because I go to the bar too much) you really do click into a survivor mode. A mode that brings forth your true self. One that will get you through hard times and that you have to lean on in order to make it through. Some people, unfortunately, don’t accept their survivor mode and instead choose the other option of staying negative and using that negativity to then harness energy and attention.

I understand that life with a chronic illness is tough. More than tough. I lived with it for over 3 years. I still deal with it on a daily basis when I’m deciding to eat for the day. But I don’t let it define me. I’ve seen a lot of people in this and other communities allowing their sickness to define them. In my eyes, that is not your sickness. It is your weakness. I know it’s probably comforting to post about how you didn’t sleep or how much pain you’re in, because you are able to connect with others that may be going through the same situation. I believe in those posts 100%, but not 100% of the time. You need to choose your battles wisely. You need to figure out how to turn your fear into courage. Especially in the eyes of those who are being newly diagnosed and who are looking to the internet, blogs and social media to help them understand what they are going through. Put yourself in their shoes. When I found out I had to have my colon removed, the very FIRST thing I did was get online to find support, learn and to prepare. I saw a couple blogs that were terrifying. I became more intimated than ever. Luckily, I did eventually find those blogs and those strong minded people who saw the light instead of the dark. They chose to wear armor to their battles and they lovingly handed off a sword and shield to me. That sword and shield are this magazine, my blog, my social media accounts. Have I been negative? So many times. But instead of allowing those negative thoughts to rule my mind, I instead turned them into this thought, “What am I supposed to learn from this situation?” Because learning is what this is all about. We live, we learn and then we grow. We have hard times, we have amazing times. We have pain, we have suffered. But all of that was so that you can help someone who might be in a situation that is far worse than yours. Do me a favor. Do everyone a favor, actually, and look at the world around you. Count your blessings. Even through pain and suffering there is reason to see what a beautiful life you have. Thanks for flipping through this issue of Companion Magazine. We are happy to provide you with extra positivity today!

Brooke A. Bogdan

Editor-in-Chiefww @brkylnbouncer www.fiercelyflared.wordpress.com

CONNECT WITH US! companionibd@gmail.com @companionibd facebook.com/companionibd

Sunday, June 28, 2015: Indy Field House Take Steps for Crohn’s & Colitis is the Crohn’s & Colitis Foundation of America’s national walk, dedicated to finding cures for digestive diseases. Walk with us and help raise funds for cures! Learn more: Call 216-524-7700, extension 3, or email clubline@ccfa.org.

FAQ SUMMER GUIDE:

YOUR QUESTIONS ANSWERED By Emma Chapple BEAUTY & LIFESTYLE EDITOR @EMMA_CHAPPLE

Our lifestyle editor takes on & answers your biggest challenges.

Confession time: I once wound up in the emergency room for drinking too much iced coffee. It was a particularly hot and humid summer day, and I decided to cool off by indulging my Starbucks addiction and taking advantage of the free refills. Seven hours later, I was crouched over the toilet with the worst ostomy blockage I had ever known. That moment – uncomfortable as it was – was a valuable lesson about caffeine intake with an ostomy. Though I haven’t kicked my coffee habit for good, I definitely try to limit how much I drink. It becomes especially hard in the summer months, when I’m constantly losing water and craving an iced latte. It’s true that summer comes with its own set of problems for people with IBD. I’ve rounded up three common summer issues and come up with the solution! Read on to find out how you can make summer a breeze. Q: I have an ostomy but still love my coffee. How can I avoid severe dehydration in the summer? A: Of course, the simplest answer here is to just stop drinking coffee. But, if you’re like me then that just isn’t an option! When you’re colon-less you lose water at a much faster rate, which means you need to keep replacing what your body isn’t absorbing. Unfortunately, our good friend coffee (and tea and espresso) will dehydrate you even more. My rule of thumb is to not exceed two small (12 oz.) caffeinated drinks per day and try to make one of them a decaf. If you’re reintroducing coffee after surgery, start slow. And of course,

make sure to follow every cup of caffeinated bliss with lots of water – especially on those hot days. Q: The humid weather is making my ostomy wafer pull away from my skin. How can I fix this without changing it all the time? A: This is one of the worst feelings – walking down the street when you realize your bag is this close to falling off. For me, this only happens at the top of my wafer – the bottom and sides are still stuck. For a quick fix, I carry around a roll of plastic medical tape in my purse – as well as extra wafers and bags for real emergencies. You can pick up some tape at any drugstore or pharmacy – but I haven’t been above pocketing some extra rolls when I’m at the hospital. Q: My medication makes me super sensitive to the sun. How can I get through summer without burning? A: IBD medications really suck, don’t they? There’s the crappy immune system, increased cancer risk, and not being able to go in the sunlight without getting some painful burns. I learned the latter the hard way, when sitting on the patio for an hour gave me uneven red blotches on my arms that lasted for weeks. No matter how long you think you’ll be spending outdoors, use sunscreen! My favorite is Hawaiian Tropic brand, and I make sure to use SPF 30. When it comes to my face, I like to use a product that’s a little easier on my sensitive skin, so I’ll usually put on some Neutrogena moisturizer with SPF before applying my makeup. However, some makeups – BB creams and tinted moisturizers in particular – are also formulated with sunscreen.

DIAGNOSIS WON’T STOP ME By: Katrina M. SPOTLIGHT CONTRIBUTOR @KMARTIN2311 How a young woman decided to embrace her diagnosis and make positive out of the pain. My name is Katrina Martin and I am 26 years old. I was diagnosed with Crohn’s disease May of 2014, which also happened to be a week after I was married. It has been a difficult year to say the least, and has completely changed my life. A week before I was about to get married, I started using the restroom more frequently and the pain started to increase. I’ve never had any problems prior to this, so I had no idea what was going and just assumed I had an ‘internal’ hemorrhoid since I couldn’t see anything on the outside of my colon. One day, I arrived at work and immediately had to leave. I couldn’t even sit down and knew I had to go see a doctor. The doctor confirmed that it was an internal hemorrhoid. Being that it was a week away from my wedding, I did everything possible to start feeling better. Two days later, (Easter Sunday) I woke up crying and in excruciating pain. My husband took me to the ER since everything was closed. They prescribed me Prednisone and Hydrocodone to help subside the pain. It worked. Later that week, I felt like I was getting better and convinced myself that I was since I was supposed to be having the happiest day of my life- my wedding. The wedding happened and I made it through. I did not feel like myself, but was happy that I was able to make it through with a smile on my face. Our honeymoon got canceled since the pain started coming back. This time it came back 100 times worse. I went to another doctor where they performed a rectal exam and found NO SIGNS of an internal hemorrhoid. They immediately recommended me to see a colon specialist. That Friday I went to see the colon specialist and he immediately took me to the exam room. Well, we were finally given an answer. I was told I was going to have to have an emergency surgery because I had an abscess that had ruptured, which caused the infection to spread throughout my body. The so-called internal hemorrhoid had been an abscess the entire time, but led it to rupture because it went mistreated for so long. My colon surgeon told my family that the surgery went great and I should start feeling better within a couple days. Unfortunately, things began to escalate. I no longer had an appetite and was afraid to eat anything in fear of using the restroom. Bowel movements were the worst feeling for me, and caused so much pain. A week later, I made an appointment to see my colon surgeon because I was not getting better. He did another exam, and said I had to have surgery again that day. Not only did he find another abscess, but also found 3 new ones that had formed inside my colon. There was inflammation everywhere. He said that this happened because the first abscess ruptured which led the infection to spread and settle in to create more abscesses. He was sure that after this surgery, he had gotten everything and the infection was out. Two weeks go by, and I am down to about 103 lbs. (normal weight is around 130-135b). I lived in my bed and eating became a dreaded chore. Every day was filled with pain. I was supposed to be taking my last few classes this summer for grad school but everything had been put on hold. I was put on disability from my work, and was staying at my mom’s house since my husband works offshore and was gone for 3 weeks at a time. I was completely dependent on the help of my family. One morning I woke up, and was telling my mom how I felt really nauseous. She suggested that I take a bath. I had a bowel movement, which led to so much pain. I ended up passing out and my mom rushed me to the hospital. This marked the turning point. I was in the hospital for 11 days and within that stay, I was diagnosed with Crohn’s disease after the colonoscopy confirmed it. I had another surgery due to more abscesses. Also, I had fistulas and anal fissures throughout my colon. My colon was just a mess. I was on Dilaudid and had a morphine drip that I controlled every 10 minutes because the pain could not get managed. The doctors then discussed a treatment plan with my family and me. They said that since nothing was working they had to place a

drain in my colon inside the fistula to help prevent any abscesses from forming. I also had to have a temporary ostomy placed to allow time for my colon to heal. An ostomy? What’s that? Prior to this, I had no idea what Crohn’s was, let alone an ostomy. They explained it to me, and at this point, I was ready to do anything, if that meant the pain would go away. I was now a 25-year-old, newlywed who had an ileostomy. I was released from the hospital. A week later, I was back in the hospital for 2 days due to constant throwing up. The inflammation was in my stomach and causing acid to build up. The doctors controlled it. I was now on my journey to start healing with the goal to get into remission. My last surgery was in June. It is now August and it appears that I am on the road to recovery. I was prescribed Humira and felt that it was helping. I decided to start training for a marathon. I signed up to run it as a charity event in honor of Crohn’s awareness and donated to the organization. Unfortunately, 4 days before the marathon had another surgery due to a flare. Another setback, but I remained positive. I had a CT scan in March of 2015 and it came back clear. This led to my next surgery on the last day of March. The doctors were going to take my drain out and repair the fistula, so that I could have the ostomy removed. The surgeon gave me an 80% chance of success since the fistula was a posterior fistula. I had the surgery and was ready to hear good news about my reversal date. I went to my second post-surgery checkup and had a feeling something was wrong. The surgery did not work and the doctor’s told me I had an abscess and another fistula and was going to need another surgery. I had my next surgery on May 4. I now have a drain in my colon that is going to be in there for 6 weeks to follow with another surgery of removing it and repairing the fistula. My GI doctor prescribed me Imuran to supplement the Humira. I’m hoping this gets me in remission. It has been one hell of a year with 9 surgeries and more to go along with countless doctor appointments. I know this is all a part of God’s plan and trust that he will use my story to help others. As bad as this disease is, I am thankful to not let it take away my pride. It has changed my life, but I still remain positive, knowing, there is a reason behind all of this. I can’t wait for my reversal, but at least I know that life can still go on, with or without it! It was my lifesaver! “This is my reality, not my excuse!”

EVERY DAY I WAKE UP IS A GOOD DAY By: Jordan W. SPOTLIGHT CONTRIBUTOR @THEREALJMW A young man explains how his ulcerative colitis diagnosis turned his life into a gift. I was diagnosed with ulcerative colitis in 2010. I had been experiencing mild symptoms and after trial and error with a couple anti-bacterial medications, a colonoscopy finally revealed that I had ulcerative colitis. For two and a half years my symptoms were controlled by a low dose of medication and I was able to live in remission. In 2012 my medication failed and my symptoms came back with a vengeance. I started taking some serious medication, even doing infusion therapy, and nothing worked. I was hospitalized twice and later found out from my doctor that I almost didn’t make it. This was the moment where surgery became my last, and only hope. After doing some research on my own and later speaking to a surgeon, I decided to start the process of having my colon and rectum removed and having the J-pouch constructed. It took 3 separate surgeries over the course of 5 months. My last surgery was in March of 2013. When I was first diagnosed, I took it well. I think it was a combination of things that helped me come to terms with being diagnosed with a life-long illness. I was relieved to finally put a name to what was making me sick for so long. Once I knew what it was, I could have a plan on how to treat it. I wasn’t upset or anything like that, I have always said it’s no use getting angry over something you can’t control. Handling the surgeries was tough. It was the most physically painful and mentally challenging period of my entire life. Lucky for me I had a great support system that was there every step of the way. Living with an ostomy came with its own challenges. It took some getting used to. I was self-conscious and didn’t really want anyone to see me with my shirt off. Before getting sick I took pride in my appearance and stayed very physically active, so seeing the changes was tough at first. Eventually I came to terms with it and saw it for what it was, the thing that saved my life. I decided from that moment on that I didn’t have it as bad as I thought and every day I wake up is a good day. I made a decision to just be happy. My life today is great and I’m loving everything about it. While I was in recovery from my surgeries I was able to get my real estate license and have been a Realtor with RE/MAX Prestige ever since. I’m learning something new every day and it’s great helping people. It took a while to get back into the gym but I’ve been able to get back into my fitness routine. I even started dating someone and it’s going really well. I’m back to living a “normal” life, even though normal is a term that is different for everyone. I have signed up for the “buddy system” at the hospital where I had my surgeries. A patient can call me any time to ask questions about life before, during and after the surgeries. The one thing I always tell people is that you have to keep your sense of humor. You’ll have a team of doctors examining you everywhere so if you don’t have a sense of humor, you’re going to go crazy. I think it’s important to give back and I’m glad I can comfort others by drawing from my own experience. I have gotten really good at putting things into perspective. As cliché as is sounds, it took me almost losing everything to appreciate what I have. My advice to others would be the same. Put things in perspective because somewhere out there someone has it worse than you do. Be grateful. Always look around and take stock in what you have.

WALK FOR CROHN’S

& COLITIS

Sunday, June 28, 2015: Indy Field House, Independence Take Steps for Crohn’s & Colitis is the Crohn’s & Colitis Foundation of America’s national walk and the largest event dedicated to finding cures for digestive diseases. Nearly 1.6 million American adults and children suffer from Crohn’s disease and ulcerative colitis, life-changing digestive diseases. Symptoms include abdominal pain, diarrhea, and weight loss. Many patients require hospitalization and surgery. You can make a difference. When you walk, you’ll help raise funds for cures! Learn more: contact Caitlin Randall Lubline at clubline@ccfa.org or 216-524-7700, x3.

IT’S NOT ABOUT BEING PERFECT; IT’S ABOUT BEING BETTER By Rasheed Clarke CONTRIBUTING EDITOR @RASHEEDCLARKE

How life with a jpouch can be more normal than you might think.

On April 3, I moved into an apartment. My own apartment. No roommates. No family members. No one else but me in a pedestrian one-bedroom apartment with parquet floors and walls painted grey on the fifth floor of a 20-story building built some 30 years ago. The building has a brown brick façade broken up by grey-framed windows and concrete slab balconies. Before I signed my lease, I convinced myself that the building had “character” compared to the newer, sleeker, cleaner, glistening glass condominium towers that surround it. After a few weeks in my new home, it became painfully clear that I was kidding myself. If I could have afforded it, of course I would have chosen a suite to rent in one of those newer buildings. When a building has “suites” instead of “apartments,” you know it’s classy. That’s where I thought I would be at this point in my life as a 30-year-old Canadian with a university degree and a college diploma. Classing it up in a suite with hardwood floors and track lighting and stainless steel appliances and a wonderful view. I don’t think my dreams were overly ornate or out of reach. I figured by now I’d have a job that fulfilled me in some way, maybe a car, and a modern rental condo with all the aforementioned amenities. Of course, those dreams sprouted in my mind before my ulcerative colitis medications gave up on me. I put lots of things on hold while I tried to get my UC under control – work, running, travel – but the hardest thing to put on hold was independent living. I hate living with other people, not only because it makes me feel like a useless dependent, but because I’m just not very fond of being around people every goddamn day.

From 2005 to 2007, I lived alone for the first time in my life. It wasn’t always a happy time, but I truly loved being independent. I loved coming home from work to a quiet apartment. I loved being able to come and go as I pleased. I loved having more control over what I did, when I did it, and who I did it with. My decision to go back to school full time necessitated a move back home to avoid amassing debt. But when I moved back home, I did so believing that I’d move back out on my own again soon after I graduated. A university degree is supposed to help you land a higher paying job, right? Scarce job prospects and a worsening inflammatory bowel disease meant I had to practice patience before realizing that goal of autonomy again. And during all the days I spent at home rewriting my resume, and all the nights I spent in hospital recovering from my bowel surgeries, I kept telling myself that when I did move out again, it would be oh so sweet. So very sweet. Sweeter than the last time. Sweeter than anything I had ever experienced before. That was an overly optimistic expectation, but it was easy to heighten my expectations as black liquid gushed from my red, ping-pong ball-sized ostomy after my first surgery. It was easy to glorify the future when my homecare nurse flushed and packed the penny-shaped wound beneath my navel. It was easy to dream big when I was sitting on the toilet for 45 minutes in the middle of the night trying to thoroughly empty my pelvic pouch. I had to dream big. Sometimes the thought of a near-perfect life was all that would get me through the misery of seeing my reflection in the bathroom mirror, seeing ribs poking out from beneath my skin, seeing a drainage tube running from my buttock down to a plastic collection bag filled with yellowish-brown liquid and strapped to my thigh. When you’re in the middle of a rough time in your life, whether it’s the result of an IBD, another illness, or some other troublesome situation, dreaming about better days can help you ride out the storm. But in doing that daydreaming, you run the risk of falling way short of your expectations when things do improve. Then you’re left wondering what all your suffering was for. That’s what happened to me. I woke up one morning a few weeks ago and I felt hollow. I felt like crying but I couldn’t even muster the tears. Not because I was in a flare-up, not because I had severe cramps, not because I was facing another trip to the ER or operating room. I was sad because I believed that in surviving a really, really horrid time in my life, I would be rewarded with some sort of euphoric happiness, and I wasn’t feeling it. My job was okay, my apartment was okay, my body was okay. But nothing was great, and I expected things to be great. I should have known better. It’s illogical to think that enduring hardship will automatically result in success. I don’t believe in karma, so I don’t know why I subscribed to a line of thought essentially grounded in it. The world owes me nothing. Sometime during my struggle for normality, I forgot that. I forgot that it is indeed a success to be able to walk to two and a half kilometers to work, as I now do, when two years ago I laboured to make a lap around the corridors on the 14th floor of Mount Sinai Hospital. It is a success to work a full time job where I write things and design things when less than a year ago I was sending out dozens of job applications a day. And it is a success to be able to complain about the hideous paint on the walls of my apartment when not so long ago I was complaining that I’d have to wait three months for an operation to reverse my pain-inducing, problem-riddled ostomy. These are successes. Not great ones, but successes nonetheless, and I try to remember that more often these days.

Just to be clear, I haven’t flipped a switch. I don’t wake up with a dopey smile on my face and skip to work and greet the barista with a hearty “good morning!” when I order my morning coffee. I don’t even drink coffee. And I usually wake up wishing I could sleep for another hour. But I do enjoy my walk to work. Sometimes I stop to take pictures of flowers or the glorious architecture of the condo buildings in my neighbourhood that are still beyond my price range. Or I slow down to hear the chirping and see the flight of the red-winged blackbirds that nest in the nearby trees. And sometimes I clench my fist when I see a guy who’s probably younger than me driving by in a black Mercedes, presumably on his way to his important, well-paying job. The jerk. I can’t just stop seeing or thinking about the things in life that I still aim for, but I try not to let the fact that I haven’t yet reached those ambitions consume me to the point where I can’t take some satisfaction from my meager accomplishments. Meager as they may be, they’re mine, and they’re signs that I have worked to make things better. Not perfect, but better.

GUTLESS & GLAMOROUS

ORGANIZATION

By Gaylyn Henderson FASHION EDITOR @GUTLESSGLAMOUR

Making living with chronic illness fabulous.

“

Glamour is not self-conscious it’s not trying really hard. It’s just expressing your own truth, I think that’s the essence of what glamour really is, expressing your own uniqueness.

”

In mainstream media, it is often referenced as having an ostomy, whether it be a colostomy or ileostomy bag, in a negative connotation. It may seem trivial to some but popular cultural beliefs can be very impressionable to others. Negative connotations such as these, that an ostomy is disgusting, can make a drastic impact on a person’s decision to receive an ostomy and can have an impact on a person living with an ostomy. Most recently, of major concern a public health agency, the Centers for Disease Control (CDC), perpetuated the negative stereotype associated with living with an ostomy. The CDC referenced living with an ostomy as a health risk message. A health risk message is used to influence the voluntary behavior of target audience in order to improve their personal welfare. In this case, they used a “colostomy bag” as a scare tactic to quit or deter smoking. It is considerably distasteful coming from the nation’s premier public health agency which primary goal is improve the health of all. The goal of public health is to eliminate or prevent disease or injury and promote health on a population level. But instead, this message alienated those living with and contemplating ostomy surgery. The message has since been removed, however for the CDC to think this is was in anyway okay in the first place is a major problem. It is both dangerous and careless for this to continue. All of these factors combined makes it that much more important for educational programs and awareness to be on the forefront. I aim to encourage young women and men through GutlessandGlamorous.Org. Gutless and Glamorous is dedicated to improving the lives of those living with chronic illness. With a special interest in those living with or contemplating life altering surgeries my mission is to empower and uplift those living with chronic illness and to raise awareness and erase the stigmas and misconceptions of life saving procedures. I want others to have not be afraid or ashamed of having an ostomy. I don’t want others to suffer because of the fear of being stigmatized of life saving procedures. A “colostomy” not only saved my life but many others that would not be here today if not for it. It is my goal to help erase the stigma of life saving procedures. I want to highlight that those living with one can be both #GutlessandGlamorous. Through the development of programs we provide support, education, and awareness. One such awareness campaign is #GutlessandGlamorous, whether you are #GutlessandGlamorous or you support someone who is you can participate. Trust me when I say, I don’t always feel glamorous/beautiful and I know the hesitance of accepting and liking your new body. My acceptance didn’t come over night. But what you believe on the inside will manifest itself on the outside. What I have learned is that no matter what people see on the outside, beauty must come from within. So every small step, declaring that you are glamorous/beautiful has the potential to make the world of difference. Join the movement, maybe we can make a difference and help others who are having a difficult time feeling glamorous or beautiful. Maybe we can help just a handful have an easier and more hopeful experience. Maybe we can help those that feel alienated by popular belief feel inspired and more beautiful. Because after all, anything that has the power to save a life can be nothing but beautiful.

A FEW #GUTLESSANDGLAMOROUS CONTRIBUTORS:

LEARN MORE ABOUT HOW YOU CAN

BE A PART OF THE MOVEMENT AT

GUTLESSANDGLAMOROUS.ORG 19