Dear Diary,
Sometimes a symbol means one thing when you first choose it… and then, somewhere along the way, you realize it has been telling a much bigger story all along.
For The Dual Diagnosis Diaries | Kia’s Journey, I chose the sunflower 🌻 to represent the personal side of my story—the parts of life that are about me, not just Crohn’s Disease, Myasthenia Gravis, appointments, treatments, symptoms, or test results.
But the sunflower carries another meaning that makes it feel even more fitting.
Through the Hidden Disabilities Sunflower, it has become widely recognized as a symbol associated with disabilities and conditions that may not be immediately apparent to others.
And considering how much of my life happens beneath the surface, I cannot think of a better symbol for Kia’s Journey.
🌻 What You See Is Not Always the Whole Story
When people hear the word disability, they may picture something they can immediately recognize.
A wheelchair.
A cane.
A mobility device.
Something visible that tells the world, This person may need accommodation, patience, or assistance.
But disability does not always announce itself when someone enters a room.
Sometimes it looks like someone walking through an airport pulling a suitcase.
Sometimes it looks like someone working a full day.
Sometimes it looks like somebody laughing with friends, taking pictures, going on vacation, baking something ridiculous at midnight, or showing up looking completely put together.
And sometimes that same person is quietly calculating how much energy they have left.
That is the complicated reality of living with illnesses and disabilities people cannot necessarily see.
Looking well and being well are not always the same thing.
💜 Invisible Does Not Mean Imaginary
Living with Crohn’s Disease and Myasthenia Gravis has taught me just how misleading appearances can be.
There have been days when I looked perfectly “fine” while my body was doing everything except cooperating.
There can be pain nobody sees.
Muscle weakness nobody notices.
Fatigue that cannot be photographed.
Bathroom calculations that happen before I ever agree to go somewhere.
Questions like:
How far is the walk?
Where is the closest restroom?
How hot will it be?
Do I have enough energy to do this and still get myself home?
If my body changes the itinerary halfway through, what is Plan B?
Apparently, Crohn’s and MG missed the meeting where we discussed respecting my calendar.
But that is life with a hidden disability.
A tremendous amount of preparation can happen behind what looks like an ordinary moment.
🌻 What the Hidden Disabilities Sunflower Means
The Hidden Disabilities Sunflower is more than simply a picture of a flower.
The program uses the sunflower as a voluntary, discreet way for someone to indicate that they have a disability or condition that may not be immediately apparent—and that they may need a little more time, patience, understanding, or assistance.
It does not tell you someone’s diagnosis.
It does not explain their medical history.
And it certainly does not tell you everything they are capable of doing.
That is part of what makes the symbol so meaningful to me.
No one should have to provide their entire medical résumé just to receive compassion.
Sometimes you do not want to announce your diagnosis.
Sometimes you do not have the energy to educate everybody around you.
Sometimes you simply need a little patience.
A little understanding.
A little grace.
The sunflower can quietly communicate:
There may be more happening here than you can see.
And that sentence could describe so much of my life.
🌻 The Person Behind the Diagnoses
That is also why the sunflower feels perfect for Kia’s Journey.
The 💜 side of The Dual Diagnosis Diaries tells the stories of disease.
The symptoms.
The treatments.
The procedures.
The advocacy.
The education.
The reality of Crohn’s Disease, Myasthenia Gravis, and living with multiple autoimmune conditions.
But 🌻 Kia’s Journey tells the story of the woman living around all of that.
The mother.
The grandmother.
The daughter.
The friend.
The professional.
The traveler.
The advocate.
The woman who loves the beach, laughter, family, new experiences, and occasionally pretending her body did not send three strongly worded emails requesting that she cancel today’s plans.
Because I am not simply a collection of diagnoses.
I am living an entire life alongside them.
🌻 Some Disabilities Do Not Look Like Disability
One of the biggest lessons I hope people take from my writing is simple:
You cannot always tell what someone is carrying by looking at them.
Someone may use accessible seating even though you just watched them walk.
Someone may need extra time getting through an airport.
Someone may cancel plans after appearing energetic yesterday.
Someone may sit down while everyone else remains standing.
Someone may need to rest after doing something that seems effortless to you.
Someone may ask for an accommodation without explaining exactly why.
Their needs do not become less legitimate simply because you cannot visually identify the reason.
And wearing or displaying a sunflower does not mean someone is asking you to determine what is “wrong” with them.
Maybe nothing is “wrong” with them.
Maybe they simply navigate the world differently than you do.
We have become so accustomed to looking for visible evidence before believing people that sometimes we forget:
Compassion does not require proof.
🌻 Maybe the Sunflower Was Always Me
There is another reason this symbol feels so personal.
Long before either of my diagnoses, the sunflower was my favorite flower.
Back then, I loved it simply because I loved it.
There was no connection to Crohn’s Disease, Myasthenia Gravis, hidden disabilities, advocacy, or The Dual Diagnosis Diaries.
It was just my flower.
Now, knowing what the sunflower can represent, that lifelong connection feels almost poetic.
The flower I loved long before I knew the names of the illnesses that would eventually become part of my story is now associated with a community of people whose disabilities, conditions, or needs may not be immediately visible to the world around them.
Talk about life coming full circle.
So perhaps it is only fitting that the sunflower became the symbol for Kia’s Journey.
Because there has always been more to me than meets the eye.
There was more to me before the diagnoses.
There is more to me because of what I have lived through.
And there will always be more to me than Crohn’s Disease and Myasthenia Gravis.
The sunflower does not simply represent my hidden disabilities.
It represents me.
The visible and the invisible.
The woman you see and the battles you don’t.
The diagnoses and everything that existed before them—and everything that continues beyond them.
Somehow, the flower I chose long before this journey began ended up becoming the perfect symbol for the woman walking through it.
And I absolutely love that.
🎵 Music Playing… “I Am Light” — India.Arie
There could not be a more fitting song playing in the background of this entry.
Because the sunflower may represent a disability the world cannot always see, but it also reminds me that what you see—even when you can see the illness—is still not the entirety of who I am.
I am not Crohn’s Disease.
I am not Myasthenia Gravis.
I am not a list of symptoms, medications, procedures, accommodations, or medical appointments.
Those things are part of my story, but they are not the definition of me.
Long before either diagnosis, there was Kia.
And she is still very much here.
Maybe that is another reason the sunflower feels like it was always supposed to be mine. 🌻
It represents something hidden, yes—but it also reminds me to keep looking toward the light.
And if you know anything about sunflowers, you know they have a reputation for doing exactly that.
💭 Reflection Corner
The sunflower has made me think about how quickly we make assumptions about other people.
We see a few minutes of someone’s day and think we understand the entire picture.
But we don’t see what happened before they arrived.
We don’t know what it took for them to get there.
We don’t know what symptoms they are managing while smiling through a conversation.
And we certainly don’t know what recovery may look like once they get home.
That is why awareness matters.
Not because everyone needs to understand every medical condition.
But because everyone can understand kindness.
You do not have to see someone’s disability to respect their needs.
Maybe the next time someone asks for extra time, sits when everyone else is standing, uses an accommodation you do not think they “look like” they need, or simply says, I can’t today, we can resist the urge to judge what we cannot see.
We can choose compassion instead.
🌻 Now the Symbol Means Even More
When I look at the sunflower beside The Dual Diagnosis Diaries | Kia’s Journey now, I see more than branding.
I see something that belonged to me long before chronic illness entered the picture.
I see visibility for the invisible.
I see resilience.
I see individuality.
I see the woman behind the diagnoses.
I see a reminder that chronic illness may travel with me, but it does not get to become my entire identity.
Most importantly, I see the quiet message at the heart of so much of what I write:
There is always more to someone’s story than what you can see.
So when you see the 🌻 beside Kia’s Journey, know that it represents the life happening beyond the diagnoses—the beautiful parts, the difficult parts, the funny parts, the complicated parts, and all those invisible battles tucked quietly between them.
It represents a flower I loved before I ever knew I would need its symbolism.
And somehow, that makes me love it even more.
Maybe the sunflower did not suddenly become meaningful because I became chronically ill.
Maybe my journey simply gave me another reason to understand why it had always felt like mine.
🌻 There is more to me than meets the eye.
And there always has been.
💭 Your Turn
Is there a symbol, flower, song, or something else that has always meant something to you—and later took on an entirely new meaning because of your journey?
If you live with a hidden disability, what do you wish people understood about the things they cannot see?
And the next time you see a sunflower being worn or displayed, perhaps you will remember:
There may be a story behind it that you cannot see.
Thank you for continuing to walk beside me through The Dual Diagnosis Diaries | Kia’s Journey.
If something in this entry resonated with you, please like, subscribe, share, or send it to someone who may need the reminder that not every disability can be seen—and not every struggle needs to be visible to deserve compassion.
Until next time, remember: your story matters, your experiences are valid, and there is always more to a person than what can be seen from the outside.
With love, honesty, and a little humor along the way,
Founder • Author • Advocate • Future Wellness Coach
Kia Lorice
The Dual Diagnosis Diaries 💜
Leave a Reply