Wait! What’s that on their arm?!?

Soon after my son was diagnosed, I was walking across the campus at his school and was suddenly filled with the hot rush of shame. I had just seen a stray test strip on the ground and knew it could only belong to him, to me: There were no other kids with diabetes on his campus.

I don’t know if you’ve had that particular test-strip-trash feeling of shame — possibly not, since most kids are on CGMs from the get go — but I do think that the feeling of being “other” in a world of people who don’t struggle with diabetes is pretty common. It’s easy to feel like no one understands — and like you stand out like a sore thumb. For many people — and for a lot of kids — that ends up leading to them wanting to hide their diabetes, whether that’s hiding their pump or CGM (sometimes even refusing to wear them), or going to the bathroom to do a finger stick, or being sure no one is around when they give a shot or just skipping dosing for their at-school meal. These kids just want to feel and look "normal." Why wouldn't they?

A lot of people put forward diabetes role models as a way to fix this problem. Role models -- from Nick Jonas to Sonia Sotomayor -- are certainly helpful: They emphasize that anything is possible and that diabetes doesn't have to get in the way of a normal -- or even an exceptional -- life. The problem, of course, is that most of our kids won't be rock stars or Supreme Court justices. So even though these role models are paragons of possibility, they don't help kids with the aloneness of diabetes in their everyday lives.

So imagine my delight when I strolled by a local Aerie store to find a life size image of a model unselfconsciously wearing her CGM on the back of her arm. Soon after, I found out that one of the Squishmallows — named Amadeus — has T1D. Granted, he’s not sporting any technology, but I love that his backstory is so inclusive.

Bottom line: T1D is becoming more mainstream. And that can only help our kids. Because — of course — what they really need is company. Our kids need to feel like they aren't the only one, suffering alone with the burden of a disease they never asked for. It's why I'm such a proponent of diabetes camp. It can be pretty magical for our kids to be in a world where almost everyone around them struggles with the same day-to-day challenges that they do. And if camp isn't in the cards for your family (though I still might try to convince you that it should be), find a diabetes friend or buddy. Network. Pull out all the stops. Ask anyone you can so you can find someone for them to connect with. Helping your kid make that connection can help them feel less like an outsider, which is an invaluable gift.