“Pride” isn’t exactly the first word that comes to mind when I think of my diabetes. In fact, a whole slew of other nouns and verbs top my list of words that I associate with diabetes, including but not limited to: strength, resilience, acceptance, guilt, anger, worry, identity…
But I’m not writing this post to focus on those other words – pride is the one I want to talk about here, and I want to explain why I’m proud of my diabetes story.

Diabetes has always been part of my life; actually, from the moment I was born. This is because I have family members who live with type 1 diabetes, just like me. I don’t really remember what life was like before my own diagnosis, and I’m grateful for that because I never felt like it made a dramatic disruption (well, besides for making its presence known within my body on Christmas Eve, but I was four years old at the time and the holidays were definitely never soiled for me because of diabetes).
As I reflect on what it was like to grow up with diabetes, I also find myself appreciative of the fact that I’m hard-pressed to find any actual evidence of it besides doctors’ records. I’ve flipped through my parents’ photo albums countless times over the years and there’s not one photograph of me laying in a hospital bed, injecting myself with insulin, or showing any signs of diabetes except for maybe the stray Diet Coke can or blood sugar meter in the background of a picture. That’s just further proof that my diabetes was never the focus, it was more so about me living and experiencing a totally normal, loving childhood.
All that makes my sudden entrée into the diabetes community, beginning in my young adulthood, that much more surprising. The transition from living under my parents’ roof to suddenly being on my own in college was, in a word, jarring – so peer support was crucial for me in order to navigate this change successfully. It didn’t happen overnight, I had heaps of help along the way, and it was far from easy, but in my mind I’ve done a good job of handling my diabetes and all the responsibilities that come with adulthood in the last decade.
And that’s what I’m proud of. I’m proud of myself for getting to this part in my journey, the part where I feel well-equipped to live a life uninhibited by my diabetes. I’m proud that I’m able to talk about my diabetes experience with a sense of confidence and capability. I’m proud that I’ve learned how to advocate for myself in various settings, whether it’s with my healthcare team or in the workplace. And I’m definitely proud of myself for the way I talk about my diabetes story: It contains chapters that are unfiltered and authentic to me, and I think that they illustrate how I came to accept my diabetes long ago and use it as a source of courage in my daily life.
I hope that other people with diabetes can also find a similar sense of pride in their own experiences with this chronic condition.
Oh you know i am all up on the D-Pride bandwagon. I am proud of my Aunt, and to some extent myself. But I am very proud of my mom. So yes I celebrate our pioneers. Yes we had Fred Banting, and Leonard Thompson. But i have Patty Ann Hale taken at age 10 from the surgeons fear about removing a PWD child’s burst appendix and Marge Phillips taken at 48 form complications of T1. She volunteered to be a control subject in insulin pump trials in 1972, 24 years before any pump was approved for use in the US. So like you I am very proud of being part of this line of and hopeful no one will come after me.
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