My journey to empowerment – Finding my voice in the diabetes community

There was a time, not long ago, when I didn’t know a single other person living with diabetes (other than my father) – And I felt utterly alone.
Sure, I had friends and family, but they didn’t truly understand. They didn’t get what it meant to check your blood sugar every morning, or how something as small as a samosa could ruin your day if you weren’t careful. They didn’t know the fear that creeps in before every test or the shame that bubbles up when you’re told, yet again, that your sugar is a bit too high.
What hurt more, though, was the silence. In many Indian families, especially among women, we’re taught not to dwell on illness – “Don’t stress others”, “Just be strong”, or my personal favourite, “So many people have worse problems.”
The problem with that kind of thinking is that it turns diabetes into something you hide instead of manage.
Finally, I reached a point where I couldn’t keep hiding – I couldn’t take it anymore, and something had to change.
Making my first connections
One evening, while scrolling social media out of sheer frustration, I came across a diabetes support group run by Indian women. Out of curiosity, I joined.
At first, I only read the posts. In them, women were talking about things like:
- their struggles with insulin,
- their in-laws judging their eating habits,
- managing diabetes alongside thyroid issues.
It was like reading my diary. Their honesty was like oxygen.
Eventually, I posted something myself – Just a short note about how hard it was to explain my needs at weddings, how I felt judged when I skipped sweets, and how guilty I felt every time I had a bad sugar level reading.
I expected silence.
Instead, I received warmth.
- “Same here, my mother-in-law thinks I’m exaggerating.”
- “Thanks for speaking up.”
- “You’re not alone.”
I got so many sweet messages, it left me feeling really happy.
That moment was pivotal. Suddenly, I wasn’t a diabetic woman living in emotional isolation anymore. I was part of a community.
Finding my voice
After making those first connections, I began engaging more with my new friends (especially those who were in college like me). I asked questions in groups, shared my tips and stories without feeling bad, and learned how to prepare better for festivals. I even met a few local women in person for sugarless chai and walks in the park.
Joining the diabetes community gave me:
- Validation – Finally, I’d found people who got it. My experiences were real and shared, and I could stop gaslighting myself.
- Knowledge – I gained practical tools from people who had tried and tested them all (everything from how to reduce carb cravings to finding alternatives for Indian snacks).
- Courage – Watching others own their diagnoses (including my father) helped me find pride in mine. I began talking about it with less shame.
- Purpose – Sometimes, all someone needs to hear is, “I’ve been there too”. So now, I make it a point to check in regularly with newly diagnosed women and be that voice for them.
Today, when someone tells me they feel alone with diabetes, I don’t offer medical advice. Instead, I offer connection – A message, a recommendation, a reminder that living with diabetes is a journey, not a failure.
Coming from silence and embracing solidarity, I found my voice. And I’ve never felt more empowered.
Looking for more stories like this?
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Yukti’s husband was diagnosed with type 2 diabetes. But rather than mope over it, he turned it into a motivator. And the results are incredible.

