Dear Type 1 Diabetes,

If I were to be writing this seven years ago when I was first diagnosed, I would just write the f-word in all caps, all over the page, and be done. I remember the anger and confusion I felt at first. Why me? What did I do to deserve this? I knew my life would forever be changed, but not in the way that I realize today. When you first entered my life, I thought I would never be a “normal” kid again. I remember laying in my hospital bed, mind jumping from wall to wall with all this new information. Testing my blood sugar around five times a day, calculating carbs, while throwing shots into the mix of everything too. You turned my life upside down and around. And now, after years of finger pricks, needles, and doctors visits, I only have one thing to say to you: Thank you.

Thank you for teaching me how to be independent.

At age 12, I learned how to take care of myself, by myself. Sure, when I was first diagnosed I had my doctors and parents right next to me making sure I knew what I was doing. But it wasn’t long until I was told to go out on my own. It was scary, nonetheless, knowing if I messed up just one little thing, it could be the difference between “fine” and going unconscious. Was it hard? Definitely. Was I perfect? Of course not. I remember one day during my soccer tournament, I tested my blood sugar after the game and it was over 500 (which is bad). But through these mistakes, I learned to grow. Even today, I’m still not perfect, and I know I never will be. But I know how to take care of myself, and nothing is going to change that.

Thank you for the lifelong friendships I have made.

The summer after I was diagnosed, my doctor enrolled me in a diabetic camp called Camp Hamwi. Here, I met some incredible people, who have been there for me through thick and thin and who I am proud to call lifetime friends. They’re my diabetic support system; without them, I wouldn’t have anyone my age to talk to if I come across a problem. No matter how long we may go without talking, we always find time to check-in with one another, and get pumped for camp every summer.

Thank you for teaching me how to stay strong.

For anyone who’s diabetic, you know how hard it is to have the perfect blood sugar five times a day because you can’t. It’s hard, but some days are harder than others. You have days where you’re always high and feel like complete crap, or low and can’t do anything but sit, eat, and wait. But through this, you learn to stay strong and know that it will be okay. Take a little extra insulin, breathe, and remember that tomorrow will always be better. Just keep doing you.

Thank you for teaching me to stay positive, even in the darkest moments.

When diabetes starts burning you out and you just want to give up entirely, you need to find the spark that will light your flame to keep you going. For me, I think about how so many people are rooting for me. My parents always remind me of how proud they are that I can balance a college athlete's lifestyle with a chronic disease on top of it. If you do feel like you can’t keep going, lean on a friend or someone who understands. Remember, we’re all in this together.

And most importantly…

Thank you for teaching me to not worry about how others perceive me.

When I was first diagnosed, I was so worried how people were going to look at me. Am I no longer normal now that I have to give myself shots and calculate what I eat? Of course not. I was the same Ashlyn that I was the day before I learned of my prognosis. Today, it doesn’t even phase me when people ask about my pump or my disease. I’ll happily answer any question someone has, without feeling judged. I proudly wear my pump on my side, my scars on my stomach, and the countless needles and insulin in my dorm room. Just please don’t ever use the joke “you’re going to get diabetes after eating that” unless you want to see my bad side.

You may have come into my life thinking you would run it, but jokes on you; I will conquer whatever obstacle you throw my way every day. I am stronger than you, then, now, and in the future. I know I’m speaking for the millions of other Type 1 Diabetics out there when I say we are survivors. Just remember to keep moving forward.