All my life, others have deemed me a mysterious, sultry, woman who comes and goes as she pleases. Little do they know, I’m usually rushing to the bathroom to unleash an uncontrollable deluge of crap due to my irritable bowel syndrome (IBS). Nobody wants to hear about poop, which is why I don’t explain myself when I sneak away to the porcelain throne. I’m not hiding anything, except the fact that I shit about a dozen times a day and have literally no control over when it happens. I can’t help that people are attracted to that!

I’m not fleeting; I’m shitting!

In high school, I was NEVER one of those girls who brought a pack of gal pals to go to the bathroom. I thought I was a loser going all by myself to shit my brains out for the fourth time that period. Little did I know that to the rest of the school, I was HANNAH FREAKIN’ MONTANA. When I’d venture to the depths of public bathrooms all by myself, I was unwittingly enchanting them with my “confidence,” “self-assurance,” and my “mysterious inner life.” When I’d have to take a shit during lunch period, I’d get up from my lunch table, and the entire cafeteria would go silent. I’d feel what I’d later learn were looks of admiration and jealousy as I silently released hot farts with each step I took.

High school was a nightmare. Everyone thought I was cool, but I wasn’t! I was shitting!

People seem to love that they think I’m not on any social media, which they view as the true mark of a free spirit who comes and goes as she pleases. Wrong again! I’m actually on nearly every social media platform (follow me @IBSbitch!) but I don’t use my real name or have a profile picture because I spend too much time shitting to figure out how to upload one. People from 12 different countries follow me for my thoughts on loose, spontaneous bowel movements. I’m actually writing a book. This doesn’t make me mysterious; it makes me embarrassed!

You may think IBS would make it hard to be in a relationship, but men LOVE ME! I always leave immediately after I orgasm without any explanation at all, which guys love. Forget about their blue balls; the urgency with which I get the fuck out of there (to find the farthest bathroom to mudslide in) is more than enough to leave them wanting more! My low-maintenance reputation makes guys fall in love with me. I’ve gotten proposed to twice, but all I want is a cure for IBS!

My boss keeps giving me a raise because she thinks my cold sweats, flushed face, and groans of pain are from working super hard on the projects she assigns me. Joke’s on her! I’m just trying to shoot a doody, girl! Also, I intimidate the hell out of my coworkers with my “assertive entrances” into rooms—but really it’s just the sweet release of Mount Vesuvius erupting out of my ass! I can’t help the confidence that comes from no one thinking you could create that kind of smell!

I’m not a strong, confident woman who has it all; I’m a strong, confident woman who has IBS!

I have no power over my mysterious persona. “Who is that girl?” they’ll say. How can they think I’m so suave with toilet paper constantly stuck to my foot? I stay humble by reciting my daily mantra: “Everyone poops.” Some just do more than others, but this girl does it a lot. Or maybe it’s just that je ne sais quoi?

Oh no, I’m shitting! Gotta go!