Life with an ostomy can stir up deeply vulnerable questions: Will anyone love me like this? Does my ostomy bag make me unattractive? How can I be intimate while managing it? These anxieties often settle in the quieter corners of ostomy life, where many ostomates fear their bodies may never be chosen or desired.
Chloe Olsen has spent her whole life learning what it means to live with an ostomy. In this blog, she draws on more than 20 years of lived experience to share an honest perspective on connection, communication, and confidence. Her insights offer reassurance, perspective, and a reminder to fellow ostomates that they are worthy of love without conditions.
10 tips for intimacy with an ostomy (from a 20+ year ostomate)
Unlike most other ostomates, I never had a “before my ostomy.” I didn’t have to relearn intimacy because I’ve had an ostomy my whole life. This means I learned intimacy with an ostomy bag—first crushes, first touch, first relationships. For me, there was no “before my ostomy” to mourn—just figuring things out in real time like everyone else.
This is the only body I’ve ever been intimate in. Every version of intimacy I’ve ever known has included my ostomy bag. And that’s why I know you don’t owe anyone everything.
This topic in particular is especially important to me because I didn’t grow up seeing bodies like mine being desired or sexualized. I had no idea what intimacy would look like for me because there wasn’t anyone like me out there talking about it. After a lifetime of trial and error, of tender moments and of ones I’d rather forget, I’m sharing my tried and tested intimacy tips for any ostomate who needs straightforward honesty—not sugarcoating.
- You don’t owe anyone your medical history.
When meeting someone new, we can sometimes feel obligated to share our medical past. Don’t forget—you get to decide when and how much you share. There were times I would over-explain out of fear, thinking clarity would protect me. It didn’t—boundaries did.
You are not obligated to provide any details you don’t want to share, and this includes any questions you don’t feel comfortable with. A simple explanation is enough.
- You get to decide when to tell someone about your ostomy.
The pressure of this used to weigh on me a lot. If I didn’t tell someone soon enough, I would feel as if I were lying to them somehow, like keeping this secret from them was a form of deception. But if I told them right away, it would sometimes change their view of me—or even the way they treated me.
My advice: if you really like someone, tell them about your ostomy bag as soon as possible, as soon as you feel comfortable. Personally, I would always tell them right away, because I find it to be an excellent detector of who isn’t meant to be.
- Phrasing is important. Confidence is everything.
If you do decide to tell your intimate partner about your ostomy, your own attitude can make the biggest difference. If you frame it as something positive, like that it gave you your life back, they probably will too! But if you say, “Now I’m forced to live with this for the rest of my life!” it gives your ostomy a negative connotation, and they may be more likely to react negatively as well.
I know it’s easier said than done, but confidence really is everything! If you go in with no fear, as if your ostomy is no big deal, it likely won’t be a big deal to them either.
- If someone is uncomfortable, it’s not a reflection of your self-worth.
Not everyone handles it well, and learning not to internalize those reactions took time. But over time, you learn the difference between curiosity and discomfort—and you stop internalizing reactions that don’t belong to you.
Discomfort doesn’t mean you’re undesirable. It means they’re not equipped for your body or your honesty—and that’s not yours to fix.
- One-night stands are NOT off the table.
This is one of the biggest things I wish someone had told me! Having only known ostomy life, I let the stigma surrounding it convince me that one-night stands weren’t possible for me—but that’s actually the furthest thing from the truth. Hearing from my close ostomate friends a little bit older than myself, I learned that it’s actually not a big deal. Although it can be scary at first (how would this random stranger react?), one-night stands with an ostomy are not harder, just more intentional. Only share what’s necessary, and prep more so you can think less.
Most importantly, make sure you feel safe. Believe it or not, your ostomy will likely not be their primary focus—in fact, they may not even notice it at all.
- Communication is key.
Intimacy isn’t mind-reading, it’s communication—and that goes both ways. At first, I didn’t know how to communicate effectively during intimacy. Partners would assume they could accidentally “break” my bag or hurt me somehow. I learned to speak up for myself through trial, error, and a lot of unlearning silence. Don’t be afraid to just tell them, “I’m not fragile,” or educate them in the moment so they feel comfortable. Communication doesn’t ruin the moment—it makes it possible, and more enjoyable when they better understand your body.
And if they don’t want to take that extra moment of care, then maybe they aren’t worth your time and energy, and that’s your choice to make. Remember—you can always back out or say no.
- Prep is not unsexy.
Emptying your ostomy bag beforehand, wearing something that makes you feel secure, maybe even putting on a fresh bag—all these extra steps we take are just taking care of your body, an important part of intimacy. I know it can detract from the spontaneity, but take it from me, you don’t want to risk having a leak during an intimate moment—major mood killer.
Trust me, it’s worth taking the extra time—having peace of mind changes everything.
- The right intimacy doesn’t make you feel like your body is a problem.
I’ve felt the difference between being accommodated and being wanted. And once you feel the latter, you stop settling for the former. For too long, I stayed in unhealthy relationships because I didn’t think I deserved better. I believed I was “defective” or “damaged,” and therefore not in a position to be picky or stand up for myself. It took a while, but once I let myself believe that I was worthy to be loved the way I wanted, I never looked back.
You’re not something to tolerate, work around, or “get past.” You’re not less deserving because of your ostomy. You’re the body someone gets to be close to.
- Desire without shame.
I grew up feeling a lot of shame around my body, not because of my ostomy, but because of what I was taught to believe about it. In navigating intimacy, I’ve learned that it’s okay to crave it, and it’s okay to communicate your needs.
Desire doesn’t disappear because you have an ostomy or disability—it adapts, like everything else.
- There’s no “right” way to do this.
Reminder: You don’t owe intimacy to prove confidence, healing, or normalcy. There’s no timeline for feeling ready. Confidence with intimacy isn’t a finish line. It shifts with age, partners, energy, and life. And that’s normal—ostomy or not. It comes with time and learning to be comfortable in your own body before you can be comfortable with someone else.
If you’re just learning intimacy in your body—you’re not behind, you’re doing it.
Find more support for intimacy with an ostomy on Instagram and in Coloplast’s free e‑book, The Ostomate’s Guide to Intimacy.
Coloplast develops products and services that make life easier for people with intimate healthcare needs. Working closely with the people who use our products, we create solutions that are sensitive to their special needs. Our business includes ostomy care, continence care, advanced wound care, interventional urology, and voice & respiratory care.
Chloe is a Coloplast product user who received compensation from Coloplast to provide this information. Each person’s situation is unique, so your experience may not be the same. Talk to your healthcare professional about which product might be right for you.
Follow Coloplast on Instagram, Facebook, and YouTube, or visit us online at https://www.coloplast.us/
Editor’s note: This blog is from a UOAA digital sponsor, Coloplast. Sponsor support along with donations from readers like you help to maintain our website and the free trusted resources of UOAA, a 501(c)(3) nonprofit organization.
