At that moment, with the music, dancing, sweating, my life was aligned, feeling the pure essence of who I was, who I am, and who I always will be. Living with diabetes is hard. It is a 365/24/7 disease that requires a lot. I get emails and DMs every day with stories of struggle and challenge, hope losing momentum. I advocate for being in the moment and seeking appreciation like every other wellness professional but if you are able, find joy. It is magic.

That was waking up on Election Day 1993. For a person living with diabetes, this calculation stuff is constant.

I figured out running and diabetes, enough to be relevant at a small Jesuit university. I missed pushing my limits to the extent I did before the diagnosis. Staying aware of my body kept me from being a burden on myself and others. It wasn’t as sexy to my soul, not going right to the edge physically, but I did the best I could for where I was in my experience. It worked...enough.

My healthcare team's new regimen held a lot of "you should do this" and "you need to" language. Each day I was right or wrong, good or bad, and I passed or failed according to their measurement scale. It is a system that thrives on a fixed-mindset process—a flow-chart, emotionally charged.