Just My Type
Issue #14: Malveena tells her story of Type 1 Diabetes and finding her type of love
Everyone who knows me well knows that my limited but eclectic collection of books is my pride and joy. I flaunt it like my grandmother flaunts her Stree Dhan - the wealth of jewellery gifted to a woman at the time of her marriage. She has a nostalgic story about each piece and knows which piece she wants to be passed on to whom. That’s how I feel about my books too.
I don’t know if I’ll ever have a treasure trove of precious trinkets to hand down to the generation after me, but they can certainly have my collection of books.
Even the copy of Diabetes for Dummies that sits on my shelf.
Let me back up - I have Type 1 Diabetes.
And no, I don’t want this book passed on because I anticipate that they’ll need it because of any kind of genetic predisposition to the condition. Even though its many variants run thick in our family’s legacy, I hope and pray that a cure for the condition becomes accessible soon.
I would want to pass this book down as a memento of what it means to choose to love someone completely.
About a month after we started dating, my husband, Akash, surprised me with a video call and proudly held up his latest purchase. A thick yellow book, with endless pages on various types of diabetes and how to deal with each one.
Funnily enough, he never managed to get beyond chapter 2, but to me, it’s the gesture that matters. In the 8 years we’ve been together, he has made up for not finishing the book by showing up for me as a caregiver, with utmost kindness and empathy, in more ways than I can count.
I feel privileged that my family’s circumstances never compelled us to think of my condition as a burden.
My parents raised me to be confident in my ability to care for myself independently. As a result, I never felt the need to hide my life with diabetes from the world.
My parents did get the occasional “Poor girl! Who will marry her?” from supposedly “well-intentioned” relatives. This worrisome question must have nestled deeply in their minds like a splinter. Yet they never let this fear pass on to me.
Perhaps the confidence that I projected to the people around me about how I care for myself, helped them normalize it. And given that Akash and I were friends for many years before we started dating each other, I didn’t really need to warm him up to the idea of also becoming a caregiver when he chose to become my partner.
Unfortunately, not a lot of young people in India living with Type 1 Diabetes can say the same for themselves. The general lack of awareness about the condition and rampant misinformation have painted a bleak picture of the futures of people like us.
I know of a lot of people with Diabetes who are as privileged as I am (at least financially and educationally) and yet, they struggle to find a partner or face rejection due to the stigma surrounding their condition. Sadly, a few of them have internalised this stigma and accepted the “Who will marry me?” question as their reality.
It doesn’t have to be this way though. I also know of people who, like me, have very supportive partners cheering them on bearing green flags in both their hands.
You can read these stories from the links below:
Saumya & Srikanth - Acceptance and Romance
Sharing their stories on my newsletter is my humble attempt at flipping the “Who will marry me?” and “Will my condition be accepted?” questions on their head to “Who will I choose to marry?” and “What do I want from a partner beyond their acceptance?”
In India, we often speak of marriage as an act of “settling down”. Unfortunately, many people who aren’t dealt the best hand of cards health-wise are conditioned to merely “settle” for anyone who accepts them.
But because I am a glass-half-full kind of person, I sincerely hope that Saumya’s, Devangana’s, Sabah’s and my own story serve as a reminder that our pancreas may be dead, but our right to choose a partner who honours our whole selves is very much alive.
When I interviewed people from the Diabetes community for this piece, the women happened to be more comfortable sharing their stories than the men. While I’m sure many young boys may have been subjected to the same kind of stigma, I don’t think I am incorrect in assuming that it is harder for a young girl to deal with it, given as a nation we haven’t gone beyond campaigns to mobilise support for her right to live and right to education.
So, to my Dear Strees with Diabetes (Women with Diabetes) who may be reading this article – should you choose to marry, adorn yourself with confidence and wear your resilience with dignity, like my grandmother makes all the women in our family wear their Stree Dhan. And remember, unlike the five stages of grief, acceptance here is not the final step, but only Step 01.
The Humaning Stories exclusively features the work of students of the Humaning Storytelling Course - a writing course by the author of Womaning in India.
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So inspiring, Malveena! More power to you <3
Your stress dhan is the most precious :)
A thought provoking piece on acceptance and defying cultural norms on what is acceptable to be a woman with diabetes. I enjoyed every word that you wrote, Malveena. You're a standing example of what it is to deal with health drawbacks and yet be with a man who chooses you regardless of what's at stake. Powerful!