Hola!, Or should I say, ¡Hola!
I’ve been working from Spain these past two weeks while my son attends a university program here. After he finishes, we’ll explore a few other parts of Europe. I think he’s having a great time—he hasn’t checked in once. 😅
This week, my social media feed lit up with images of Barbie, but not just any Barbie. If you receive the Diapoint newsletter, you know we were excited about the news, too.
Thanks to the advocacy of organizations like Breakthrough T1D, who collaborated with Mattel, we now have a Barbie with Type 1 Diabetes.
Even better, supermodel Lila Moss and Peloton instructor Robin Arzón were honored with their own Barbie dolls, too.
The first half of the day, the energy online was exciting. Even my teenage son shared the post on his Instagram story. If you know teens, you know that can be a big deal. But I was honestly proud, that he just shared it in a very matter of fact way. Even though it is something that more young girls relate to, I’m proud that he is not ashamed of his diabetes.
Although some people in society don’t want him to be.
As the day went on and more news outlets started to share it, the comments started rolling in. And they weren’t kind.
- “Propaganda to normalize taking insulin.”
- “Does she come with Ozempic or is that sold separately?”
- “Can’t wait for cocaine Barbie.”
- “How?! What has Barbie been eating?”
Some comments were so vulgar, I won’t repeat them here. And I also read that some people have bought them and are selling them on E-bay for 6-8 times more?!
It’s always shocking how much ignorance and stigma surround diabetes of any kind.
But then again, maybe it isn’t. Children and adults with diabetes face discrimination every day. Now, even Barbie is getting her share.
You want to shout back. To fight. I’ve been there.
As a mom of a child with T1D, I know how painful it can be to read these things.
I even took on an American late-night talk show host once after he made a ridiculous joke about donuts and diabetes.
But you know what? Those roads often lead nowhere.
Instead, I’ve learned to put my energy into better things—my child, my advocacy, helping other families rise above the noise, and Diapoint that supports people and families in their health and wellness journey with diabetes.
This Barbie launch aslo reminded me of another experience I’ve had. Growing up, loved Barbie. Many young American girls did. I used to dream of one day having the Barbie Dreamhouse, but it was far too expensive for my family. Every year I would wish for it, and it never happened.
I realized how much that mirrors life with Type 1. Not getting this fancy toy is not life threatening, BUT, for so many around the world, the basics—like insulin, diabetes tech, and quality care—are still out of reach for too many.
On the same day Barbie made headlines, I saw someone trying to help someone on another continent find insulin, because they had none. They diabetes and advocacy community pulled together and solved this.
This is the world we live in.
So while it’s amazing to see a Barbie with T1D, and while representation absolutely matters, so does access.
Barbie doesn’t come with insurance denial letters or the emotional burden of managing a chronic condition, or extra money to pay for new technology and supplies.
She’s not a physical representation of everyone with Type 1 Diabetes, either. And as always, she is beautiful and well-kept. She hasn’t been up all night fighting hypoglycemia, red eyed and swollen head from using her inhalable glucagon – if she was lucky enough to have access to that as well.
Despite all of this, I’m still so happy to see this Barbie because representation absolutely matters and it has to start somewhere.
T1D Barbie is a step in the right direction. But it shouldn’t stop.
Let’s celebrate this moment. But let’s not stop here.
