What a great topic... Time to grow. And that's something we all do at our own pace, including how we feel about exposing ourselves and our ostomy! I'm Marsha, and I'm turning the clock back about 50+ years... to a year after I had my surgery at age 15. (I'm now 72) For the 4 years I was sick with ulcerative colitis, and wanted nothing more than to be well enough to be free of doctors, hospital stays, treatments, and surgeries. When that day finally came, I was faced with the next step, what risks was I ready to take. My mother said NO to an extended summer travel trip to Israel. Sigh. She also said NO to skiing since I had just gotten out of a back brace for osteoporosis. My friend was going to support Israeli "camp" here in the US, and I desperately wanted to go (for the summer) or a month, which was financially out of the question. But I was granted scholarships for a few long weekends, and off I went. Never thinking about where I change, or group showers. Sigh. The ignorance of youth... Or is it bravery? Still don't know. I handled showers by wearing a support panty and telling everyone I had a hernia. Bathroom first thing in the morning meant I missed services and exercises, but I had an excuse for that also. (Dopey me, never told the administration, or I'd have been officially excused). Sometimes, I'd make it back to the group in time for morning call. The most difficult was how and where I was going to change when all we had were public toilet stalls, with no sinks... I excused myself at night (during social activities), went to my bunk, collected my "stuff," and a plastic bowl for water. And there, by the light of my flashlight, and a bowl of water, I changed my appliance, to the night sounds of bees and other insects buzzing around... There I was, 16, and reclaiming my life, in my own way. I wasn't always as "brave" years later, but I was always willing to think things out and do what I really wanted to do... In this lifetime of mine, I delivered two children, knowing that I couldn't have a C-section, I flew around the country in a single-engine plane, no bathroom, I swam in the Dead Sea, and on the Great Barrier Reef, and walked the wall in China, rode an elephant in Africa, and stood at the tip of the African continent... Every new experience made me braver and more determined for the next, and in looking back, I know that I "grew" more than I ever would have without my ostomy. But I still have white-knuckle disease when I go to the dentist. Best regards to all of you. There's always time to grow... Marsha...