Apparently there are thousands of us diabetics out there, but for some reason, my daily life never seems to have brought me in contact with all that many of them. I've had Type 1 diabetes for almost eighteen years now - ever since I was three years old - and as I've grown up, my diabetes has always been something that was very personal to me. Children naturally want to fit in with those around them and I was certainly no exception. Whilst I always knew inside that I was somehow 'different', I never wanted to make a big fuss about this. As far as I was concerned, my diabetes was simply a small part of my identity and all of my hobbies, dreams and ambitions were what came first.

In fact, I've been pretty successful in my time - I finished school with good GCSEs and A-levels, I took part in a wide range of extracurricular activities and then continued on to one of the top UK universities. If anything, I feel that my diabetes almost helped me to do as well as I did, as it taught me to be patient, independent and incredibly organised from a very young age (I've since taken part in several management schemes and lots of the basic organisational skills seem to come naturally to me).

Nevertheless, that's not to say that growing up with diabetes has always been an easy ride. Some people say that injecting yourself every single day gradually becomes so normal that it's 'just like brushing your teeth', but I have to disagree here. Whilst you do get used to the routine elements of diabetes, I am sure that there is no diabetic in the world who has never found himself asking: "Why me?" Growing up is hard for the best of us - facing the trials and tribulations of puberty, young love, examinations and peer pressure, without mentioning the whole tricky minefield of 'alcohol' - so throw diabetes into the equation and you are often left with the sensation of hitting your head against a brick wall. However hard I tried to keep my blood sugars between 4 and 7 across my teenage years, my blood sugar meter always relayed a different story, which was slightly demoralising - considering all of the effort I was putting in. But what else can you expect, with all those erratic hormones racing around?

What I did learn was that I had to take control of my diabetes from an early age, if I was to join in with my friends at every opportunity and stop the diabetes from taking control of me. At 13, I started working towards my Bronze Duke of Edinburgh's Award, which involved a 15-mile expedition, spread over two days. I initially told myself that I would join in with my friends for the Bronze Award, but then stop after that - as the 30-mile Silver expedition and the 50-mile Gold expedition would be far too difficult with my diabetes. Yet when the time came, I refused to be deterred - for if diabetic sporting heroes like Steven Redgrave could cope with the pressure, then so could I. Adapting my regime and my insulin to suit the conditions proved to be a sheer guessing game and this was my life that I was essentially 'playing' with. Our Gold expedition often took us miles from civilisation, far out of mobile phone reach, so when I walked into St. James Palace to receive my Gold Award, I knew that this was an astonishing personal achievement - one which most of the other candidates would barely comprehend.

My trip to the palace was certainly one of my high points, but my transition from the supportive family 'cocoon' to the independence of university life was not always an easy one. My biggest scare came at the end of sixth-form, when I spent one New Year's Eve in France, with my family and my long-term boyfriend. That evening, I drank more wine than I had ever drunk in one single night before and I danced into the early hours of the morning, forgetting to have a snack before bed. The consequences were disastrous. My family awoke to the noise of me having the second hypoglycaemic attack of my life and we had to call for the emergency doctor to come and administer a dose of glycogen. Fortunately my boyfriend was very supportive throughout the whole event, but my parents became over-paranoid from this point onwards and the whole episode really scared me for starting out at university that September - just what every 18-year-old girl needs!

Nevertheless, I learnt a lot from the whole experience and it prevented me from ever trying to experiment with alcohol at university - even when friends criticised me for not drinking as much as they did. I grew up a lot after that New Year's Eve and even though I often felt as if I was the only one who really knew about my diabetes at university (after leaving my family and well-known healthcare professionals behind) I had the courage to join in everything as a 'normal' student. I never felt disadvantaged by the fact I was diabetic and very few people, besides my close circle of friends, ever knew that there was anything different about me. Some highlights of my time at Bristol Uni. were once being paid a ridiculous sum of money to give feedback on some instructions for a new insulin pen; getting filmed for a website about young people with diabetes and meeting the creators of the 'One-Touch Ultra' testing meter at a careers fair and having a great, in-depth conversation with them. You see, there are some advantages to being diabetic!

All the same, my greatest achievement to date was probably getting through my 'compulsory 3rd year abroad' last year - as part of my languages degree at Bristol University. This meant leaving all of the British support mechanisms behind, as well as deciphering the EHIC health arrangements abroad, working out the best way to secure my insulin supply (without paying the earth!) and how to transport my insulin whilst travelling for multiple days at a time. Nevertheless, I succeeded and I am now back to tell the tale. As far as I am concerned, diabetes should never stand in your way for anything and I would like to use my experiences as an inspiration to others.

Nonetheless, it does frustrate me when terms such as 'chronic long-term illness' or 'disability' give people the wrong impression of diabetes. I do not consider myself to be 'disabled' - even if I technically am on the forms - so I think it's about time young people started talking about diabetes more openly, to help break down some of the pre-existing stereotypes. I also find it frustrating that diabetics are forced to renew their driving licence forms so frequently, as this extra bureaucracy does disadvantage us in some respects. Whilst the condition does stop us from driving heavy goods vehicles or large passenger vehicles, I strongly believe that anything is possible with diabetes. In the future, I hope to follow in the footsteps of our diabetic local MP, Adrian Saunders and go on to interpret at the European Commission and if I set my mind to it (and keep some glucose tablets in my pocket) then I feel sure I can succeed. So go out and live your dream!