I’ve lived a quarter of a century with diabetes and I’d 100% be lying if I said that I knew everything about it. Hell, I’m not even an expert on my own individual experience with it, as it has changed (and will continue to change) over time. I recognize that I am not well-versed in all aspects of it, and certainly not when it comes to any other type of diabetes besides type 1.

That’s why when I recorded a podcast earlier this week (which I’ll be posting about here next week, be sure to tune in) with two hosts who admitted that they knew next to nothing about diabetes, I applauded them for sharing that with me.

I appreciated their transparency, and quite frankly it made recording the episode so much easier because I was able to reassure them that no question they asked me would be a silly one. We had a candid back-and-forth about how a portion of society tends to act like they are subject matter experts on diabetes, and I was able to express my frustration with that mindset because of the stigma it perpetuates around diabetes. It’s a lot more difficult to talk to people who claim knowledge on the diabetes subject when this “understanding” of diabetes is only obtained via hearsay or information gleaned from online forums that are filled with judgment or only small bits and pieces of the broader diabetes puzzle.

It’s uncomfortable to admit to a person or to people that you don’t know well that you’re feeling vulnerable or uneducated about a topic, but I’ve found that in doing so, the best and most natural conversations take place as a result. I walked away from the recording feeling grateful for the opportunity to speak to open-minded individuals who merely wanted to hear my perspective, and the experience served as a reminder to me to be objective in my own conversations that I have with others on topics I’m less-versed in, and to just listen and learn to get the most out of them.