When it comes to invisible illnesses, bowel disease sits high on the list of misunderstood conditions. For men, the stigma can be especially heavy. Mesha Moinirad, known by millions as Mr Coltis Crohns, sits down with Kate Stevenson to break the silence

When Mesha was first told he might need a stoma bag, his reaction was instant: “Absolutely not.”
“I had very negative perceptions of it and how it would change my life,” he admits. “I couldn’t imagine it. I sat at my mum’s crying for days.”
Mesha lives with inflammatory bowel disease (IBD), a chronic condition affecting the digestive tract. He’s one of 500,000 people in the UK who face not just the physical toll of the condition, but also the emotional silence that surrounds it. And, for men, that silence can be suffocating.
THE COST OF SHAME
The taboo surrounding bowel disease is real for everyone, but with men it’s tangled up in outdated ideas of masculinity. “We’re not past that yet,” Mesha says bluntly. “Men don’t go to the doctor unless it’s critical. There’s this weird pride thing – we don’t want to show weakness.”
And while society is slowly warming up to conversations around men’s mental wellbeing, bowel conditions aren’t seen as chit-chat. “For some reason, poo still feels too awkward to talk about,” shrugs Mesha.
It’s why IBD is often described as an ‘invisible illness’. On the outside, people with the disease may look healthy. But the reality is that pain, exhaustion, and fear rule their lives.
With Mesha, things started falling apart while he was at university: “I dropped from 11 stone to five-and-a half stone,” he remembers. At first, doctors insisted he had gastroenteritis but, when his dad came to visit and saw how ill his son looked, he took Mesha straight to hospital.
It was there Mesha collapsed at the entrance and was rushed for emergency surgery. “My body just started shutting down,” he explains. The real issue had been a burst appendix which had been leaking toxic fluid into his abdomen for days. The outlook seemed grim, as Mesha recalls: “They gave me a 20% chance of survival.”
After surgery, his bowel-related symptoms began to increase. “I went from going to the toilet once a day to 50 times a day, but I was too embarrassed to tell anyone.”
SWALLOW YOUR PRIDE
Men are significantly less likely to seek medical help compared to women, and the consequences are stark. One in five men will die before the age of 65, and men account for around three-quarters of all suicides in the UK. It seems the stigma around illness, weakness, or being seen as anything but ‘normal’ runs deep.

This silence becomes even more dangerous when symptoms like bloody stools or extreme fatigue are ignored: “I thought I’d been stitched up wrong,” confesses Mesha. “Or worse, I thought it was cancer. But I was too ashamed to say, ‘Hey, I’m bleeding from my bum’.”
In many ways, the issue is bigger than men or pride – it’s systemic: “People flinch at the word ‘disabled’, but I am. It shouldn’t feel dirty,” argues Mesha.
It’s why Manchester United made headlines when they announced they were installing male sanitary bins in Old Trafford. For men with stoma bags, there’s often no private or dignified place to manage hygiene. That lack of infrastructure sends a message: your condition doesn’t belong in public.
LISTEN UP
But societal change is slow. “Too many people still see this as just a ‘poo’ problem, but it’s not,” reasons Mesha. “It affects your mental health, your social life, your career. I lost friends. I lost confidence. I almost lost myself.”
It’s estimated that 40% of IBD patients experience anxiety, and a quarter live with depression. When asked what might help other men seek help, Mesha pauses. Then: “Everyone says men need to talk, but that’s hard. Especially if you’re scared. What we really need is for men to listen.”
When he started showing his stoma online, TikTok deleted his account nine times, and Instagram shadowbanned him for sharing ‘inappropriate’ content. Mesha chose to double down. “I get messages saying, ‘Your video made me get screened – they found bowel cancer’. That’s why I keep going.”
BREAK THE TABOO
Mesha believes every man living with a bowel condition needs to find their tribe. “Your doctors and family can only understand to a certain level. You need to find your people – the ones that get what you’re going through,” insists Mesha. “That’s the difference between shame and strength.”
Ultimately, Mesha knows that’s easier said than done. He refused a stoma bag for four years, thinking only older people used them. But when he finally accepted his condition – which most commonly gets diagnosed between the ages of 15 and 35 – his life changed for the better.
“This bag saved my life,” he says, pointing to his abdomen. “And if sharing that helps one other bloke go to the doctor, stop hiding, or feel proud of his body again, then I’ll keep talking. Even if no one else is.”
Sometimes, the strongest thing a man can do is say: ‘This is happening to me too’.