Monday, January 20, 2020

Tap. Tap. Is this thing on?

Hello, world.

It's been a minute. Okay, so my last real post was like 5 years ago. How ya been? Who's president now? Wait. Nevermind.

Inspired by Renza Scibilia to "Stand Up," I'm back. I wouldn't be back without her. Without you. Without so many of you in this community I've done my small part to nurture and grow. You who, in turn, have lifted me up so many times.

What has changed since I left this space to go lead a nonprofit and take my first executive role? Since I moved from Dallas to San Francisco? Since I went to work for a Silicon Valley startup? Since I jumped all in on the medical device industry? Since I joined a diabetes software nonprofit? What has changed since my kids grew from preschoolers to tweens?

Everything. Nothing.

In Renza’s post (seriously, go read it), she describes the ways she had tried to be at odds with who she is. It made me think about a personality assessment I completed in my last job. I'll never forget what the assessor said to me. "Melissa, you're so sure of who you are that you're almost uncoachable."


Let's be honest about what we're working with here then. I was never actually going to say it sweetly. Despite more than a decade of trying to challenge myself to take it down a notch, I'm just as pointed and deliberate (and righteous) as I've ever been.

So that's not new. In fact, you should expect more of that. Maybe, if we're both lucky, the wiser, world-wearier version of that. A person who has had the opportunity to drop the mic a hundred more times in larger rooms with fancier tablecloths since last I was here. A person who has hopefully learned a few new things.

I've watched some of our friends leave this earth and pass their legacy into our hands; I feel the weight of that responsibility daily. I've been privileged to be in the position to impact products and governmental policies that could help a lot of people. Sometimes I’ve been successful. Sometimes I haven’t been.

I've met thousands more people with diabetes. I think more about what they need than what we need, dear reader. I'm still obsessed with connecting people and fighting for access. The need for advocacy on these topics has heightened, not lessened.

I'm back here because no one is everywhere anymore. Platforms and social trends change. I want to nurture a living document of my diabetes thoughts. Forums are gone. Gratification is instant. Patience is thin. An algorithm decides which friends you speak to, what your politics are, and how much insulin I take.

I'm back here even though I've argued that blogging is dead.

I'm back here on my own turf because the soil is still good.

I want to grow something.