Judged?

Today I met a friend of a very good friend for the first time.

She is over from Berlin and, as I speak German and love my friend so dearly, Frank and I popped over to say Guten Abend just after dinner this evening.

I left feeling uneasy and misjudged. And yet everyone was lovely to me.

I feel this a lot when for the first time I have to explain that Frank is diabetic. Lovely, educated and kind people look at him with concern.

It goes like this:

They ask me if it can be managed with just dietary changes.

No.

They ask if I have to do any injecting.

Oh, yes.

They ask if he will grow out of it.

Never.

They tell me they have heard the condition is growing quickly and that some children of 12 or 14 are getting it because they are obese and eat junk food.

I say that's probably Type 2.

They look at me. They look me up and down.

I am suddenly aware of every morsel that is going into my mouth.

I am not a skinny person.

I feel so judged.

Part of me in these moments feels the weight of the world judging me for my chronically ill child and my Mama belly.

I can feel my spirit shrinking and I want to slink away.

I know I will rally later but for now I am rather beaten.

And I judge myself too, even though I know I did nothing to bring this on or deserve it.

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Talking to someone recently we came up with the idea of imagining a bubble around yourself that is permeable but serves as protection from unwanted comments and emotions and judgements.

But it would need to be almost bullet-proof because when your child has diabetes, this stuff cuts so very deep.

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I shall have a good cry tonight and then Frank and I are spending the day quietly at home together tomorrow.

That will restore my balance.

Being with my two boys will restore me.

Knowing others "out there" hear me, really hear me, will restore me too.

Thank you for reading.