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I woke up 32 years old yesterday…
Thirty-two is choosing rest without guilt. It’s choosing softness after years of armor. It’s understanding that healing isn’t linear— it’s negotiated. I talk about turning 32 and feeling down about not having a traditional job, being single, and having no kids. I discuss how society celebrates major life events like pregnancies and promotions differently, often…
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Fluent in Pain
I am fluent in pain. Not conversational— immersed. It is my first language, learned before rest, before trust, before I knew bodies were supposed to be homes. Pain conjugates me daily: past injuries, present flares, a future I’m warned not to plan. I speak it without thinking now— the way I measure rooms by exits,…
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No Days Off From The Body
No Days Off for the Body: A blog-post-poem for the chronically brave – Chronic illness doesn’t RSVP. It doesn’t care that the tree is lit 🎄, that the cake is frosted 🎂, that everyone else seems to get a pause button ⏸️ and a glass of something sparkling ✨. Pain doesn’t take holidays. It clocks…
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Diagnosed, Exhausted, Feral by Necessity🩶🎀
Chronic illness doesn’t just crash the party; it moves the furniture and eats your plans. This is the reality of living with a body that rebels daily, forcing you to navigate a landscape of limits where fatigue and guilt are constant companions. But here’s the truth: you answer louder, with honesty and tenderness, refusing to…
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She held it together when everything was coming apart…
She showed up tired, scared, underestimated, and still did the damn thing. She learned who to trust, who to release, and who to never explain herself to again. She outgrew versions of herself she once had to be to survive. She chose peace over proving. Alignment over applause. So before she sets new goals, she…
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đź“Ł Still Me, Even on the Hard Days đź“Ł
There’s a version of me that existed before chronic illness and chronic pain And then there’s the version of me that exists now. Contrary to popular belief, they are not strangers. Yes, my body hurts. Yes, my energy is rationed like it’s a luxury item. Yes, my life looks different than I planned. But at…
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Unwell, But Cutee (And Still Standing)
I am tired in a way that has nothing to do with sleep. Not the kind of tired a nap fixes. Not the kind that goes away with an early night or a slow morning. This is the exhaustion that comes from living in a body that is always negotiating. With pain. With illness. With…
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Stress Is My Worst Flare Trigger (And I’m Paying for It Right Now)
Living with chronic pain is exhausting. Living with MCAS on top of it? That’s like playing a rigged game on expert mode while blindfolded. Add stress, fear, anxiety, and life doing what life does best—being wildly inconsiderate—and suddenly every condition I have decides to RSVP at once. Right now, I’m not just flaring. I’m flirting…
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New Logo!
Unwell but Cutee Unwell but Cutee is not a phase. It’s a condition. A mood. A visual language. Born from overstimulation, soft chaos, and an unshakeable commitment to looking good while falling apart, this space exists in the in-between: polished but messy, playful but sharp, tired but still trying. This is for the art girls…
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Hello, world!
Introducing Myself: I’m Diana — a.k.a. unwellbutcutee Welcome to my little corner of the internet! I’m Diana, better known online as unwellbutcutee, because if life insists on throwing diagnoses at me like confetti, the least I can do is stay cute while dodging them. This blog is where I finally peel the curtain back and…
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Unwell, but, cutee!🥂✨ 