What Not to Say to Someone with IBS (Seriously, Don't)

Why Your Words Matter More Than You Think

IBS—short for Irritable Bowel Syndrome—isn’t just about “tummy trouble.” It's a chronic condition that can seriously mess with someone’s quality of life. But here’s the thing: most people don’t get it. And even when they mean well, they end up saying stuff that’s... honestly kinda hurtful or just plain annoying.

I remember chatting with my friend Rachel (she’s been dealing with IBS for years). She told me how someone once said, “Just eat more fiber!” Like, as if she hadn't already tried that a hundred times. She laughed it off in the moment, but it stung. And yeah—I've probably said dumb things like that too without realizing.

So if you know someone with IBS, or just wanna avoid being that person, here's what not to say—and why it matters.

“It’s just stress, right?”

Minimizing is never helpful

Look, stress can worsen IBS, that’s true. But implying that it’s only stress? That’s like telling someone with asthma to “just chill.” It’s dismissive. IBS is a functional gastrointestinal disorder—meaning the gut doesn’t work like it should, but there’s no clear structural damage. It’s complex, and no two people have the same triggers.

Honestly, I used to think the same. Until I saw how Rachel would eat the exact same meal on two different days and get two completely different outcomes. It’s not just stress. It’s a rollercoaster with invisible rules.

“Have you tried cutting out gluten/dairy/sugar?”

Unsolicited diet advice = no thanks

Oh man. This one’s a classic. I get it—you wanna help. But suggesting random diet changes without being asked? Risky. IBS is super individual. What works for one person might wreck another. Plus, many people with IBS already have super limited diets. Suggesting they cut out yet another thing? It can feel like salt in the wound (or like, fiber in the flare-up… too soon?).

There was this time I told a colleague (Mark, really sweet guy) to try going gluten-free. His face dropped. He said he’d just gotten off a restrictive plan and was finally enjoying food again. Oof. Lesson learned.

“At least it’s not something serious.”

Yeah… it is serious

Well-meaning, maybe. But this one really grinds my gears. Just because IBS isn’t life-threatening doesn’t mean it’s not life-altering. Imagine planning every outing around bathroom access. Cancelling dates. Feeling like a prisoner in your own body. That’s serious.

I once read a study (don’t ask me to find it, I forgot the source, sorry!) where people rated their quality of life with IBS as comparable to folks with diabetes or chronic back pain. That hit me. So yeah—it’s “just IBS,” but don’t say that like it’s no big deal.

“You’re just being dramatic.”

Please don’t. Really.

This one is rare (thankfully) but brutal. Telling someone they’re exaggerating when they’re silently suffering? Not okay. People with IBS often hide their pain because it’s embarrassing, or because they’ve been dismissed too many times.

Honestly, if someone trusts you enough to open up about what they’re going through—listen. Don’t downplay. Don’t joke. Just... be there. (Okay that sounded cheesy but you get what I mean.)

Better things to say instead

Shift the vibe with empathy

• “That sounds tough—do you wanna talk about it?”

• “Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.”

• “Wanna pick a restaurant that works for you?”

Sometimes, the best thing to say is actually… not much. Just being chill and supportive? That goes a long way. Rachel once told me the best comment she ever got was simply: “Let me know what you’re comfortable eating, no pressure.” That’s it. Simple, kind, respectful.

Final thoughts (and a little confession)

To be honest, I’ve messed up before. I’ve said dumb stuff, laughed when I shouldn’t have, offered advice that wasn’t asked for. But I’m learning. Talking to friends like Rachel and Mark has helped me get it in a way I didn’t before.

IBS isn’t visible. It’s not cute. And it’s definitely not easy to live with. So let’s stop saying things that make it harder. Let's just be better listeners, yeah?

And if you do screw up—own it. Apologize. Try again. That’s what being human’s all about, right?

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