My name’s Elizabeth, and I’m a marketing consultant who spends a lot of time traveling. I also live with Type 1 diabetes, which requires constant monitoring of my blood sugar levels. While most people understand my condition and respect my need to eat when necessary, that wasn’t the case during a flight from Chicago to Seattle.

As I sat down on the plane, I began feeling the familiar dizziness signaling a blood sugar drop. I reached for my emergency protein bar, only to be told by the mother sitting next to me, “Can you not? Our son is very sensitive.” She explained that the smell and noise from the bar upset her son, despite him being absorbed in his iPad. Reluctantly, I agreed to wait for the snack cart, but my condition worsened.

When the cart finally came, the father across the aisle refused to let me have any food, saying, “No food or drinks for this row, thanks.” When the flight attendant hesitated, I spoke up, stating clearly, “I have Type 1 Diabetes. If I don’t eat something soon, I could lose consciousness. So yes, I will be eating. Thanks.”

The row fell silent. The flight attendant promptly handed me my snack, and I was able to eat, feeling my blood sugar stabilize. The mother muttered, “It’s called empathy,” to which I replied, “It’s called managing your own child.”

Later, the mother tried to explain her son’s condition, but I responded, “Lady, I don’t care. I’m going to manage my medical condition however I need to.”

The flight ended, and I walked off with my dignity—and my health—intact. This experience taught me an important lesson: advocating for your health is not rude; it’s necessary.