As I age closer and closer in my mid (to late) twenties towards the big three-oh, I often find myself wondering how my peers perceive me. Yes, we all left high school behind us 10 years ago, but I can’t help but compare myself to others – much in the same way I did back when I thought piercing my eyebrow was a good idea. Since that is, after all, what the world of social media has evoked from all of us (especially you, if you’re reading this), and ingrained deep within our millennial brains – that our portrayal of ourselves to others is the norm. Do you know someone who got a promotion, got engaged, had a baby, travelled the world, or spotted a B-list celebrity? Of course you do! You’ve seen it on your social media feeds, multiple times.

My addiction to my cell phone, and the immediate gratification I get from checking all my feeds is what has led me to what I want to talk about: life in the slow lane. Everyone I know appears to be in the fast lane, the passing lane, jumping from promotion, to dream vacation, to wedding and children. I see all this at a glance from my bed or my couch, catching a glimpse of life in the fast lane that all my peers live in.

I do not deny that seeing so many of the people I have encountered in my life doing so well and succeeding in life gives me joy. I am genuinely happy that people are flourishing. Heck, I even enjoy being able to be an audience member to their lives. What I want to know though, is how I appear to them? When the tables are turned, how does my life appear to them?

I thrived after high school until my second year of university, when I had to drop a semester because I was too sick to attend. After that first debacle, I had to drop out of a full four semesters of my education due to being too sick to attend, coupled with the worry of worsening my lungs if I pushed onwards. Let’s say that for about six years now, my life has been a series of up and downs. I never stay on the upward swing too long, because cystic fibrosis comes along and knocks me down time and time again.

I post photos of my achievements - granted they are not as ground shattering or notable as those of my peers. I get to travel when I am healthy (admittedly, I usually return home needing a stint of IV antibiotics), I am in a great relationship, love my family and friends, and have one hilariously overweight cat and a new kitten. I post about these things from time to time, but I also choose to broadcast the other half of my life. The part you wouldn’t know existed unless you knew me, the sick me. I post about hospital visits, home IV antibiotics, and my inability to shower comfortably while on them. I describe hospital stays and sick days, and show the good with the bad.

From the fast lane they are living in, do my peers on social networks see me as stalled in the slow lane? Do they feel bad for me? How do the successful millennials I have grown up with think of me now, as my health continues to decline? I see wonderful things from their side of health, and I wonder how they paint their pictures of me.

Do they see me as succeeding despite the setbacks thrown at me by cystic fibrosis? My doctors and nurse would tell them that indeed I am thriving, in an environment that seems to be modelled around knocking me down every few months, and taunting me to get back up again each and every single time. Do they know that as I share my life and the battles I face, I am doing so in the hope that raising awareness for CF will one day lead to the donations that will fund research for a cure?

I share my daily struggles for the betterment of the quality of life of those who will come after me, those who are younger than me, those who have a fighting chance of living a live that is even closer to the norm they (my peers) themselves are privileged enough to live – working and having enough energy to enjoy their lives and weekends.

If you feel like following my journey, click here.