My First Colonic (And the Bit Nobody Warned Me About Afterwards)

By Bonnie Bellamy | Wellness writer & colon-hydrotherapy enthusiast

Right, Let's Just Say It Out Loud

There is a particular kind of courage required to book yourself onto a treatment table, hand over a not-insignificant amount of money, and invite a qualified practitioner to introduce warm, filtered water into your large intestine. I know this, because I did exactly that on a drizzly Tuesday morning in Bristol, wearing my most optimistic pair of socks and telling absolutely no one where I was going.

I'd been writing about wellness for years by that point. I'd tried infrared saunas, cold-water plunges, breathwork sessions that made me cry for reasons I still can't explain, and enough adaptogenic mushroom lattes to open a small café. But colon hydrotherapy — colonics, as the regulars call it with the breezy familiarity of people who have long since abandoned certain social embarrassments — had always felt like a step too far. Until it didn't. Until I booked it anyway, because curiosity is a powerful and occasionally undignified force.

What Actually Happens in There

I want to be straightforward with you: I am not a doctor, a nurse, or anyone with a single medical qualification to her name. I'm a wellness writer who has done a lot of research and even more personal experimentation. So please, if you're considering colon hydrotherapy yourself, do consult a qualified practitioner first — someone properly trained who can assess whether it's appropriate for you. What I can offer is my own experience, told as honestly as I know how.

The clinic was calm and clean and smelled of nothing alarming, which I noted with relief. My therapist — let's call her the Most Unflappable Human I Have Ever Met — explained every step in the kind of reassuring, matter-of-fact tone that made me feel I was being silly for having been nervous at all. The session itself involved lying on a treatment couch while warm water was gently introduced and released in a series of cycles, with the therapist monitoring everything and occasionally pressing lightly on my abdomen. It was, genuinely, not what I'd feared. There was no drama. There was mild discomfort at moments. There was also, I'll admit, a strange kind of release — not just physically but in that hard-to-articulate way where you realise you'd been holding tension somewhere you didn't know you were holding it.

I left feeling lighter. Spacious, almost. Quietly triumphant. I texted my best friend a single emoji — the sparkle one — and treated myself to a bowl of plain rice for lunch like the wellness warrior I absolutely am.

The Bit Nobody Warned Me About

Here is where the story takes a turn that nobody in the glossy wellness content I'd consumed beforehand had thought to mention. The days after my first colonic were... interesting. Not bad, exactly, but unsettled. My digestion felt hesitant, as though it had forgotten its own routine. I felt a little bloated by day two. My energy was fine, but my gut seemed to be having a quiet think about things.

When I went back to my therapist for a follow-up chat — something I'd strongly encourage anyone to do — she was entirely unsurprised. She explained, in her wonderfully calm way, that aftercare matters enormously. The session had, among other things, disrupted the existing bacterial landscape of my gut, and that landscape needed some thoughtful tending afterwards. She talked about diet, hydration, rest, and — crucially — about reintroducing beneficial bacteria to help support the gut environment during recovery.

This, I thought, was the bit the brochures really ought to lead with.

Down the Rabbit Hole of Gut Microflora

If you give a wellness writer a reason to research something, she will research it with the intensity of a person writing a doctoral thesis on a deadline. I spent the following fortnight reading everything I could about gut bacteria, the microbiome, and the long, fascinating history of humans trying to understand what's actually going on inside us.

It was during this deep dive that I first came across the name Élie Metchnikoff — a Nobel laureate from the early twentieth century who pioneered some of the earliest serious scientific thinking about beneficial bacteria and their relationship to human health. His work was visionary, and it planted seeds that researchers and formulators have been building on ever since. I found it genuinely thrilling, in the way that only a certain kind of nerd finds scientific history thrilling, and I make no apologies for that.

It was also during this research that I discovered MaXilin.

Why I Now Take MaXilin as Part of My Daily Routine

MaXilin is a food supplement — I want to be completely clear about that, because responsible wellness writing matters to me, and MaXilin is not a medicine and makes no claim to treat, cure, or diagnose anything. What it is, is a thoughtfully formulated supplement that combines super probiotics with polypeptides, and its heritage traces back to that very tradition of research into beneficial bacteria that Metchnikoff helped establish. I find that lineage genuinely meaningful.

As part of a healthy lifestyle, MaXilin may help support the balance of your gut microflora — and that, after my colonic experience, felt like exactly what I was looking for. I wanted something I could incorporate consistently, something with a serious scientific heritage behind it, and something that felt like a genuine act of care for my gut rather than a gimmick.

I've been taking it daily ever since, alongside a diet that's reasonably varied, a water intake that is better than it used to be (I keep a large bottle on my desk now, which helps), and the occasional colonic when I feel my body would welcome one.

One thing worth knowing: MaXilin is also available in a suppository format, for anyone who prefers a non-oral option. I mention it simply because I think it's useful to know the choice exists — your own practitioner or pharmacist would be the right person to talk to about what format might suit you best.

What I'd Tell Anyone Considering Their First Colonic

I'd tell them to stop catastrophising (says the woman who wore her best socks as emotional armour). I'd tell them to find a qualified, reputable practitioner and have a proper consultation beforehand. I'd tell them to ask questions — about the process, about aftercare, about what to eat and what to avoid in the days following. And I'd tell them that the aftercare is not an afterthought. It is, in many ways, the whole point.

• Choose a practitioner with proper qualifications and don't be shy about asking to see them.
• Be honest about your health history — this is not the moment for British understatement.
• Plan for a gentle day afterwards. This is not the time to schedule back-to-back meetings.
• Think about how you'll support your gut microflora in the days that follow.
• Be kind to yourself throughout. Your gut has been on quite the adventure.

My first colonic was not the glamorous, transformative, Instagram-ready experience that wellness content sometimes implies. It was human and a little awkward and genuinely interesting, and the real learning came in the weeks afterwards, when I understood that what you do between sessions — how you eat, how you rest, how you tend to your gut — is where the real work lives.

Let's Keep Talking About This

Gut health is one of those subjects that people are simultaneously fascinated by and reluctant to discuss at dinner parties, and I think that's a shame. The more openly we talk about it, the better equipped we all are to make informed choices about our own wellbeing. If you've got questions about colon hydrotherapy, about gut microflora support, or about my experience with MaXilin, I'd genuinely love to hear from you — please do get in touch with me and ask away. And if you'd like to go a little deeper into the world of gut health before you do anything else, you can request your free gut health guide — it's a lovely place to start.

Your gut, as I've come to think of it, is doing extraordinary things for you every single day. The very least we can do is pay it a little attention.