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I generally consider myself to be fairly mature for my age. I've attributed my maturity to the experiences I've been through, mostly from dealing with a chronic illness from such a young age. It definitely puts a different spin on your whole life. You consider life as temporary, something to be cherished. You know you don't have all the time in the world.

Despite the maturity, I've still got growing up to do. There are things that diabetes and all my other experiences haven't taught me. I still have the passion and will of my youth to contend against on a regular basis. I'm holding on to pieces of that youth for good reason, seeing where maturity can change life for the worse in some ways.

One of the areas that diabetes has given me a mixed level of innocence involves disclosure. For a long time, I wasn't okay with my diabetes. I'm not sure what I was afraid of...I guess the judgement, stereotypes, and misunderstandings of the general public when you mention a chronic illness. So I didn't like telling anyone unless I found it necessary, interesting, or of some relevance.

And over the years, I've somehow managed to get by with that mindset. No terrible backlash of keeping it quiet. Despite what my mother always said.

Yet in the past year (with much help to this blog), I've matured. I'm no longer concerned with disclosure in the way that I once was. I will easily mention my diabetes to someone, whether it's necessary or not. It comes up in general conversation. It's part of me.

A few months ago, I posted about my online dating experiences...the question of telling or keeping quiet. Somewhere, I developed a system that seemed to be okay. It wasn't the first thing I said about myself, but it wasn't the last. And I didn't make it an after thought (although sometimes they did). Although I still struggle with telling about my other health concerns.

So here I am, with that maturity and more of these experiences...but where I am? Because despite my willingness to disclose, I'm still concerned with the backlash. I wonder what the public truly thinks of it. Do they assume I must eat poorly or never exercise? Do they wonder if I'm sickly? Or maybe they think it's no big deal?

There are so many sides to managing diabetes exposure. On one hand, I don't want to be judged for my diabetes. After all, I obviously didn't do it to myself. But on the other hand, I don't want someone who will easily write it off as no big thing. Ideally, I want someone who understands how important diabetes is in my life. They get why I advocate for a cure, they understand the speed of treating a low, they get that it's going to be frustrating sometimes.

Whether friend or more, I need people in my life who support my diabetes world. I need people that I can turn to and tell my fears...to say, I'm scared this will pass on to my children, I'm scared I won't be able to have children, or I'm just scared. I also need people who I can rejoice with, in the small moments of diabetes triumph when I get a good A1c result, have a week of awesome blood sugars, or just bolus for pizza correctly.

Sadly, the cynic in me says that these types of people are so few and far between that I should cling to anyone who shows signs of this mix. I've seen my best friends not get it, even those with diabetes loved ones themselves. I've felt the withdrawal of someone when they don't understand how I can be so on fire for this disease (and its cure). Too many reactions, too many failures.

That isn't to say it never comes along. I recently told a new "friend" about some of my other health issues (leaving out the trickier issues). To my surprise, I wasn't judged or blown off. I was supported, hearing words that I've been needing to hear for a very long time. And it reminded me that the cynic can be wrong.

So the tiny optimist in me says keep looking. That one day someone will come along that will fit this bill (or maybe they just have?)...and in that person, I will have a beloved and cherished comrade in the diabetes fight that is my life.