How dare you assume you are entitled to my thoughts, my work, my blood and sweat, my labor and triumphs.
You do not know me.
And more importantly — you chose not to.
You could have taken a moment to learn who I am or what I stand for. You could have seen the thousands of hours I’ve donated to the chronically ill and disabled community. The education I’ve shared freely. The resources I’ve created so others wouldn’t have to struggle alone the way I once did.
But instead, you made baseless assumptions.
Accusations without curiosity.
Judgments without context.
Not caring that there was a story here — or that you might learn something.
So what was your goal?
To diminish me?
To keep me small?
To pull me back into a gutter I climbed out of long ago?
Here’s the truth you missed:
I’ve already made it.
And that is the point of my story.
Whether this is as far as I go, or whether there are more chapters ahead, I have already tasted success — in health, in financial stability, and in well-being — despite chronic illness, disability, and systems that were never designed to support bodies like mine.
And the irony?
I would have shown you how to do it too.
Healing while living with chronic illness.
Losing weight with Lipedema.
Escaping debt while disabled and buried in medical bills.
Learning to predict and reduce flares before they take you down.
Yes — I sell books.
And yes — I give them away when someone truly can’t afford them.
Yes — I run groups with tens of thousands of members where information is shared freely — information others charge dearly for.
But you wouldn’t know that.
You didn’t look.
So no — I don’t owe you my story.
I don’t owe you my labor.
And I certainly don’t owe you access to my resilience.
If you find yourself stuck — in poor health, in debt, or in bitterness — the solution isn’t tearing down someone who built a ladder.
Sometimes the work starts with the mirror.
I’ll keep doing the work. You can keep scrolling.
