20 years ago this month, I was lying in a hospital bed in St Thomas’ Hospital in London, staring out over the Thames and the Houses of Parliament. A great view for tourists but a a strange place to be processing the fact that my large intestine was about to be removed.
What followed was a long, painful, and deeply formative chapter of my life.
Four major surgeries.
Eighteen months living with a colostomy and ileostomy.
A complete disruption to my sense of identity, independence, and future.
At the time, I didn’t have the language for it, but what I was really moving through was a profound life transition.
And transitions have a way of stripping us back to what actually matters.
When a Condition Becomes an Identity
During my recovery, I joined the UK Ileostomy Association.
At first, it helped.
There was comfort in not being alone, in hearing stories that mirrored my own, in being understood without explanation.
But slowly, I noticed something shifting inside me.
My condition was beginning to shape the story of who I thought I was.
Less capable.
More fragile.
Better suited to a smaller life, surrounded by people who were “like me now.”
And then one day, something clicked.
I realised that while my condition needed managing, it didn’t get to define me.
It didn’t change my values.
It didn’t change my capacity to love, to grow, to contribute, or to live fully.
That moment became a quiet but powerful turning point.
Three Lessons Forged in Fire
Looking back, that period of my life taught me three lessons that continue to guide my work and my own inner navigation.
1. How you respond will determine the outcome.
I couldn’t change what was happening to my body.
But I could decide how much agency I gave it over my future.
A positive mindset isn’t denial or blind optimism.
It’s an intentional choice to meet reality without surrendering your power to it.
As my brother said to me in that hospital bed, words I still carry today:
“Don’t let it control you. You control it.”
2. Strength is an inside job.
I’ve never thought of myself as particularly tough.
Not a fighter
More reflective than forceful.
Yet in those moments where strength was the only option, it emerged.
A steadiness.
A resolve.
A vast inner well of strength that I didn’t know existed.
“You never know how strong you are, Until being strong is the only choice you have”
3. Don’t let your condition define you.
This applies far beyond physical health.
Divorce.
Burnout.
Anxiety.
Identity loss.
Grief.
These experiences are chapters, not character definitions.
They are contexts you move through, not labels you are meant to live under.
Over the course of four operations from Jan 2006 to March 2007. I had my large intestine removed, an internal pouch built in it’s place (they recreate your large intestine from the small intestine), and my plumbing was reconnected in March 2007, having lived with colostomy bag for just over year.
💪🏼Two years later in 2009 I competed in my first natural bodybuilding show and went on to compete in five shows in total, the last one in 2013.
Understanding the Nature of Transition
Over the years, I’ve become fascinated by how humans navigate change, especially the inner, psychological journey that follows major life events.
This is why the William Bridges Transition Model resonates so deeply with me.
It distinguishes between change, which is external, and transition, which is internal.
And it reminds us that every transition moves through three stages:
The Ending
This is where something is lost.
A role, a relationship, a version of yourself.
This is where grief lives.
The Neutral Zone
The in-between.
Uncomfortable, uncertain, often disorientating.
But also quietly fertile, if we don’t rush to escape it.
The New Beginning
Not a return to who you were, but an emergence of who you’re becoming.
Often richer, more grounded, and more aligned than you could have imagined.
We tend to resist the first two stages, wanting to fast-forward to resolution.
But life doesn’t work that way.
Turning Lead into Gold
Nature understands this rhythm far better than we do.
Leaves fall.
They rot.
Winter sets in.
And then, without effort or force, spring arrives.
Our lives follow the same pattern.
When we ask, “Why is this happening to me?” we often stay stuck.
When we ask, “What is this showing me about who I am and who I’m becoming?” something begins to shift.
Life doesn’t stop asking us to grow.
It just changes the way it asks.
And sometimes, the most painful chapters become the ones that quietly shape our deepest strength.
A Final Reflection
I wouldn’t wish those years on anyone.
But I wouldn’t erase them either.
They taught me how to respond.
They showed me where my strength actually lives.
And they reminded me that no condition, diagnosis, or life event gets the final say on who we are.
That part is always an inside job.
Support for your Journey
If you’re in the middle of a transition right now, whether that’s illness, loss, uncertainty, or a sense that something in your life is quietly asking to change, you don’t have to navigate it alone.
The Pathfinder journey is designed to support people through endings, the in-between, and new beginnings, helping you reconnect with your inner strength and clarity.
📞 Book a free 45-minute Pathfinder Discovery Call with Roman and explore where you are, what’s shifting, and what support might help you move forward with more ease.
