I never imagined I’d have to defend my right to eat a protein bar on a flight. But during a recent trip from Chicago to Seattle, that’s exactly what happened when I found myself up against a pair of entitled parents who believed their son’s minor “sensory sensitivities” outweighed my medical needs as someone with…

I never imagined I’d have to defend my right to eat a protein bar on a flight. But during a recent trip from Chicago to Seattle, that’s exactly what happened when I found myself up against a pair of entitled parents who believed their son’s minor “sensory sensitivities” outweighed my medical needs as someone with type 1 diabetes.

I’ve managed T1D since I was twelve, which means I need to monitor my blood sugar closely and act fast if it drops. That’s precisely what was happening as our plane taxied. When I reached for a protein bar, the mother next to me asked me not to eat it saying the wrapper, the smell, and the chewing might upset her child. Against my better judgment, I agreed to wait for the snack cart, even as my symptoms worsened.

When the cart finally arrived, the parents again asked that I not eat, even requesting the flight attendant skip our row. That’s when I’d had enough. I raised my voice so those around could hear and explained that I have diabetes and needed to eat to prevent passing out. The flight attendant quickly brought me food. The parents objected, but the rest of our row came to my defense.

That flight reminded me of something important: advocating for your health isn’t rude it’s essential. My condition may be invisible, but it’s serious. No one’s discomfort should come before someone else’s safety. Especially not when you’re 30,000 feet in the air