Earlier this month marked 20 years with type 1 diabetes for me—my 20th diaversary! This was a huge milestone I had looked forward to recognizing. I’m a celebrator of life’s big and small moments and while I don’t celebrate type 1 diabetes, a disease that constantly challenges my patience, motivation, and health, I celebrate the perseverance, patience, and grace I’ve practiced along the way. Not always consistently so but that’s okay—progress isn’t linear. I’m human.
I celebrate aging. Not everyone gets another day. I recognize this privilege and am grateful for my time.
I finally had the opportunity to sit down with my partner for a diaversary meal a few weekends ago after not being able to recognize the occasion the day of because I was feeling ill. For many reasons beyond this anniversary, I was feeling more like myself in years…but I’m not going to get into that. Those layers are for me.
There have been times in my life when I’ve leaned too hard away and too hard into this disease. Reflecting on that, I consider another milestone—turning 30. My 30s are all about integration and moderation. There’s room for anything but not one thing all at once. Balance isn’t key as it implies unachievable perfection—a 50/50 split. Type 1 diabetes is a sliding scale. Sometimes it’s 70/30. Sometimes 60/40. You get the idea. All of our “core ingredients” discover their integrations and rediscover them and rediscover them...
My 30s are about being comfortable with the gray and leaning into myself wholeheartedly— a person who encompasses many things, including diabetes.
I’ve spent 2/3 of my life with type 1 diabetes now, and it’s challenged me as a human, but it’s also lent itself greatly and gratefully to who I am. I am more empathetic, curious, and patient because of this disease. Everything you encounter in life is what you make it. That’s my key takeaway all this time later. Some days are harder than others but at my core, on my clearest days, know that I wholeheartedly believe that type 1 diabetes doesn’t have me—I have it.
Life is more than our weakest points, how we react to what’s supposed to make us weak or what’s supposed to make us stop. But there is beauty in pausing—it forces us to understand what we truly find valuable. Type 1 diabetes knows best that life is unexpected and we are clowns to its ebbs and flows. It forces us to find calm in the chaos. Careful planning can’t account for the spontaneity—type 1 is an adventurer of the body and builder of the soul.
So here’s to 20.
And here’s to 30.
And here’s to the many I hope to have ahead!
Thanks to all those who’ve seen me through the many ups and downs, in all fonts and fortunes.
Lots of love! Here’s to us. 🫶