Diabetes,

I never asked for you to become part of our story.

You came into our lives when my little girl was only 3 years old—too young to understand what you were, why she needed insulin, or why her life suddenly looked so different.

I remember the fear. The hospital. The needles. The glucose checks. The questions I couldn’t answer. I remember holding my baby and wishing more than anything that I could take it all away from her.

But you didn’t just change her life. You changed mine too.

You gave me sleepless nights and constant worry. You taught me what it feels like to hear an alarm in the middle of the night and immediately wonder, Is she okay? You brought highs, lows, injections, pump changes, CGM alarms, and a million moments of second-guessing myself.

And yes, there are days when I hate you.

I hate that my daughter has to think about something that most kids never have to think about. I hate that she has to carry supplies, count carbohydrates, take insulin, and learn to recognize when her own body isn’t feeling right.

But diabetes, you should know something…

You didn’t break her.

You didn’t take away her childhood. You didn’t take away her dreams. You didn’t stop her from dancing, playing volleyball, singing, performing, laughing, or being the bright, beautiful girl she is.

If anything, you’ve shown me just how incredibly strong she is.

And you’ve shown me a strength in myself that I didn’t know I had.

So, Diabetes, you may be part of our story—but you will never be the whole story.

My daughter is so much more than her diagnosis.

She is brave. She is strong. She is determined. She is a dancer. She is a daughter. She is a sister. She is a kid who deserves to live her life without limits.

And I will be beside her through every high, every low, every alarm, every needle, every difficult day and every victory.

You may have entered our lives when she was three…

but you will never get to decide who she becomes.

—Mom

(Jordana mom of a T1D)