If you found your way here, I am really glad you did.
Type One Den was born out of equal parts frustration, gratitude, and hope. Frustration because living with type 1 diabetes can feel like carrying an invisible full-time job that never clocks out. Gratitude because I would not have made it through some of my hardest days without the people in the T1D community who shared their stories, their hacks, and their honesty. Hope because I believe we all deserve a place that feels useful, real, and a little bit comforting when diabetes is being especially loud.
I still remember the shock of diagnosis. One day life felt normal enough, and the next I was learning a new language made up of blood sugars, correction factors, insulin-to-carb ratios, ketones, basal rates, urgent lows, and the strange math of trying to keep a human body in range. It was overwhelming in the way only life-changing news can be. Even when the education was good, it was still a lot. Even when the people around me cared, there were pieces they simply could not understand from the outside.
That was one of the loneliest parts in the beginning: realizing how much of this condition lives in tiny private moments. The 3 a.m. alarms. The stubborn high that makes no sense. The low during a grocery run. The decision fatigue. The quiet fear before trying new food, new exercise, new gear, new routines. Type 1 diabetes asks you to pay attention all the time, and that can be exhausting.
But somewhere along the way, I found community. I found people who could translate the chaos. People who said, “Yes, me too,” in ways that made me feel less broken and less alone. I found creators, advocates, and everyday people sharing what actually worked for them: where to place a sensor, what to pack for a long day out, how to recover from burnout, how to laugh at the absurdity of it all. That kind of generosity matters more than I can explain.
That is why I started Type One Den.
I wanted to build a space that feels like a conversation with a friend who gets it. Not polished to the point of being unrecognizable. Not medical jargon for the sake of sounding impressive. Just honest writing about life with T1D, the gear that helps, the food questions we all end up asking, the mindset shifts that make hard seasons survivable, and the advocacy work that reminds us our voices matter.
You can expect practical guides, product and tech breakdowns in plain language, reflections on the emotional side of this condition, and thoughtful recommendations when something is genuinely useful. Some posts will be deeply personal. Some will be nerdy. Some will be straightforward resource lists I wish I had years ago. All of them will be written with the same goal: to make life with T1D feel a little less isolating and a little more possible.
If you are newly diagnosed, I hope this site helps you breathe a little easier. If you have been doing this for years, I hope it feels like recognition. If you love someone with T1D, I hope it gives you a clearer window into the daily reality behind the numbers.
Mostly, I hope Type One Den becomes a place you come back to when you need encouragement, clarity, or just proof that someone else understands the weirdness of this life.
If that sounds like your kind of corner of the internet, subscribe and join the Den. I would love to have you here.