Redefining Resilience: Lessons from a Life with T1D

Resilience is one of those words that gets thrown around a lot—especially when you live with a chronic disease like type 1 diabetes. People often say, “You’re so strong,” or “I don’t know how you do it.” And while those words come from a place of kindness, they don’t always match the reality of what resilience actually looks like when you're living it every single day.

I’ve lived with type 1 diabetes for over two decades. If I’ve learned anything about resilience, it’s that it’s not about having it all together. It’s not about smiling through everything or pretending it’s easy. It’s about showing up. Again and again. Even when you’re exhausted. Even when you’re frustrated. Even when your numbers make no sense and your best efforts still fall short.

Resilience is messy. It’s quiet. It often doesn’t look like strength on the outside—it looks like troubleshooting at 2 a.m., packing low snacks in every bag you own, taking a deep breath when the pharmacy messes up your prescription for the third time, and setting an alarm so you can check your blood sugar in the middle of the night... and then still getting up the next morning to go to school, to work, to parent, to live.

When I was first diagnosed, I didn’t think of myself as resilient. I thought of myself as determined, curious, and stubborn—especially about not letting diabetes define me. But what I didn’t realize at the time was that those very qualities were the foundation of resilience.

Over time, I stopped seeing resilience as something you either have or don’t. I started seeing it as a skill you build, slowly and steadily, through experience and repetition. Every time I problem-solved a high blood sugar, adjusted for a big event, or advocated for myself in a healthcare setting, I was building it. And every time I failed and got back up, I was building it even more.

Here’s the truth I’ve come to know: Resilience isn’t about bouncing back. It’s about bending without breaking—and learning how to grow in the process.

You don’t have to be perfect to be resilient. You just have to keep going.

And while T1D has tested me in every stage of life—childhood, teen years, college, career, motherhood—it has also given me a depth of strength I might never have uncovered otherwise. I’ve learned how to advocate for myself. How to prepare for the unexpected. How to be resourceful, patient, and compassionate—not just with others, but with myself.

Now, through Touched by Type 1, I meet people of all ages who are building their own version of resilience. Parents figuring out how to care for their newly diagnosed child. Teens navigating independence with a disease that doesn’t take breaks. Adults who are balancing work, family, and blood sugar checks every step of the way. No two paths look the same, but the courage is universal.

So if you’re in a hard season right now, let me say this: You’re allowed to feel frustrated. You’re allowed to be tired. And you’re still resilient.

Because you’re still trying. You’re still showing up. And that’s what resilience really looks like.