I started referring to my time in London as ‘B.C’: before colitis and ‘A.D’: after diagnosis. I mourned for my new life. It was a double-edged sword; I realised that despite my intentions, I practised ableism by default as I’d never had to consider life through the lens of someone chronically ill. I also felt like I didn’t have a right to complain because my invisible illness didn’t totally inhibit my ability to work, socialise and retain my autonomy. I was still deemed ‘productive’ under our capitalist regime…