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My sickle cell disease advocacy journey began more than a decade ago, but it has changed shape many times. I have lived through a silent phase, an angry phase, a loud phase, a tired phase, and, finally, a more understanding phase.
In my early teens, after learning about my sickle cell diagnosis, it didn’t affect my life enough to dominate my thoughts. I was neither ashamed nor afraid to discuss it; it simply didn’t seem significant enough to define me. No one knew I had sickle cell disease. Classmates and friends noticed I sometimes missed school, but they never knew why. That was my silent phase.