An Open Letter To Those Who Didn't Know Any Better

I am a person living with invisible illness. Quite a few of them, in fact. While they may be invisible to you, for me, they are impossible to ignore.

"But you don't look sick." I have heard it more times than I can count. Try reading that phrase a few times in different tones of voice. I know that it is often intended as a compliment. Sometimes it is blurted out as an impulsive reaction of shock or disbelief when someone first learns of my health battles. Other times, it is said with a dismissive tone, intended to discredit the entirety of my experience as a person with severe chronic illness, simply because those illnesses are invisible...to you.

If I had to sum it up simply yet incompletely, having an invisible illness is quite the predicament; a very strange, isolating, and painful predicament. It is unique in the worst way. Painful in more ways than can be described in words.

I can't help but scream these words about life with chronic illness. I never wanted or imagined my life to be this way, but there is no escaping what became my reality nine years ago. I am so grateful to be able to see the possibilities and promises in spite of that reality. I feel compelled to help as many people as possible understand this journey in some way, and to help those who are experiencing something similar to feel less abandoned. I want my friends with invisible illness to know that beyond those who truly understand what it is like to walk in their shoes, there are countless other supporters who stand fervently by our sides. I can only hope that my shouting will in some way give a voice those who suffer in silence.

Catalyst. Part Two: The Launch Event

"True art is characterized by an irresistible urge in the creative artist." - Albert Einstein

What a privilege to witness art springing forth from this irresistible urge.

I don't think anyone who attended Catalyst's inaugural "Launch" event last weekend can deny that they bore witness to true art.

If you have never observed something like this, I will do my best to describe it, though I am not sure my words will do it justice.

Art in its truest form begs to be understood. It succeeds.

Art in its truest form does not discriminate against its audience. It transcends all barriers.

Art in its truest form does not strive for perfection. It is too human. 

Art in its truest form heals. It does not need to know what ails you.

Art is its truest form is not about the product. It is about the message.

Art in its truest form finds a way. It exists unconditionally.

Catalyst. Part One: Ellie.

Let's talk about those moments that just feel right.

Where your spirit is ignited and at peace all at once. Typically surrounded by incredible people and in a place that has a comforting familiarity, whether it is actually a place you know or perhaps it was just a part of your journey waiting to be discovered.

Last weekend I was privileged to have one of those moments, thanks to Ellie Sabry and her organization, Catalyst: Spark a Chain Reaction. 

I'll have some Cheerios with a side of equality and understanding, please.

Have you seen the cheerios commercial?

You know, the Cheerios commercial.

If you haven't, I suggest that you watch it and then watch this: kids reacting to the Cheerios commercial.

Actually, I don't suggest it. Rather, I beg you to watch the above video.

The commercial I'm talking about features a mixed race family. For the record, I'm not sure that I find this be a "statement". I rather find it incredibly normal. It's about time that media reflect the real people and families that we see everyday.

Unfortunately, not everyone feels this way. The comments on the YouTube page for the commercial were so hateful that they had to disable and delete them. I know, I know, "Katie, YouTube comments are always ridiculous". I won't argue with you there. But thousands of hateful or trepidatious responses to a freaking Cheerios commercial are far too many for my liking. Let's discuss.

The Accidental Hipster

I think I have become an accidental hipster.

I can't imagine how this assumption has come about.

I mean, how could anyone ever call me a hipster?

Okay, so this isn't actually how I dress/act. It was Halloween. On this night, I was an intentional hipster.

The irony (hipsters are all about irony, right?) is that being an intentional hipster completely defeats the essence of being a hipster. I'm pretty sure that trying to be a hipster is a big no no. So coming up with a costume, deliberately trying to hipsterize myself, was pretty darn complicated. To the untrained eye, we may look the part. But I'm sure a hipster (who wouldn't admit to being one anyway) would have plenty to critique about our ensembles. Or maybe a hipster, who doesn't think that they themselves are a hipster, would call us out for being hipsters and make fun of us for it?

Yeesh. Hipsters are complicated.

But have I (allegedly) become one of them?

Don't judge a rare leather bound book by its cover, okay?

This is going to be like a create your own ending novel. I suggest you stick around.