It was a warm, sunny day. The pool was still and blessedly quiet because I was the only one there. I slathered on half a bottle of Banana Boat sunscreen, slid my sunglasses onto my face, and cracked open my latest recreational read.
Before I had even reached the end of the first page, I was disrupted by the DING! of my phone, alerting me to a new Instagram message. From a former co-worker. Who I had never talked to outside of the workplace. Curious…
“Hey there. I saw you have been going through some health things lately,” the message began.
Ha! I thought to myself. That’s an understatement, if I ever heard one.
“I know that health and wellness from the inside out is not for everyone,” the message continued.
Health and wellness from the inside out? Not for everyone? What does that even mean?
“But I wondered if you would want to come learn about our supplements by chance.”
I closed my book and slid off my sunglasses, contemplating my response. Should I respond at all? How sarcastic could I be? I finally settled on saying, “Thanks for the offer, but I already have a symptom management plan in place with my cardiologist and rheumatologist.”
I left the pool that day still shaking my head over this random interaction. The more I thought about it, the more annoyed I became. When I told some of my friends in the chronic illness community about the interaction, they responded with similar stories of their own, which made me think even more.
“The more I thought about it, the more annoyed I became.”
Listen, friends. There is nothing inherently wrong with selling MLM-type products like Arbonne, Doterra, Seint Beauty, or the like (I just purchased some Seint makeup from a friend this month - that IIID cream foundation really does apply so smoothly). These companies provide invaluable opportunities for people to work from home, structure their day according to their needs, and sell products they love. There is, however, a potential problem when people like my former coworker try to sell products to those in the chronic illness community by making promises about how they can and will help or cure us, and without any knowledge of our conditions.
When I was in college, one of my friends began selling a particular brand of bath products. Even though I was undiagnosed at the time, and my symptoms were not as prominent, I had a high sensitivity to bath products and their scents (one time I used a Bath and Body Works hand sanitizer and had an allergic reaction that lasted seven full days). My friend knew about my sensitivity and told me about how her products were naturally-based with milder scents that were perfect for someone with faulty mast cells like mine. She was right! I used the products, I loved the products, and I was never forced to take my contacts out because my eyes were so itchy and nearly swollen shut from the scent of those products! My friend was not just trying to make a sale; she was genuinely trying to help me find a product that would suit my needs.
In contrast, the former coworker from this summer never talked with me about my illnesses. They saw the Instagram reels I made poking fun at my symptoms (because sometimes you have to laugh, otherwise you’ll just cry, right? Ha ha. Ha. Ugh….), but they never had a conversation with me about what caused my symptoms, how I was attempting to manage them, or how severely they had begun to affect my life. This lack of previous conversation left me feeling like my coworker was just trying to make a sale and not actually concerned about ME and my health.
“If you have a product you think could benefit your chronically ill friend, talk to them first.”
If you have a product you think could benefit your chronically ill friend, talk to them first. Get to know their illness and how it uniquely impacts them. Then decide if your product could actually prove beneficial to them.
Now, I’ll give my former coworker props for not telling me that their product would cure me. But unfortunately, it’s happened before.
Oh, you have clinical anxiety? This supplement will make you less anxious.
Oh, you have chronic migraines? This essential oil will take those away.
Oh, you have chronic fatigue? This powder will give you all the energy you need.
Oh, you have a problem? Yo, I’ll solve it. Check out the hook while my DJ revolves it.
Sound familiar? Okay, so that last one is a line from the 90s hit song “Ice, Ice Baby.” But the others are things I and my other chronically ill friends have heard.
Here’s the thing: Nobody is the same. No chronic illness presents itself 100% identically. There is nothing that is guaranteed to help or cure someone. I know countless people who successfully take a well-known and frequently prescribed medication. But when I was prescribed it? Well, let’s just say I had quite a few side effects, and they were coming out of both ends.
If you have a product you think could benefit your chronically ill friend, don’t make them any promises. You cannot guarantee how the product will affect them, and acting like you know it will cure them is just frustrating for someone who has had to come to terms with the idea that there may not be a cure for their condition.
If you have a chronic illness, it’s likely you’ve heard some variation of the question, “Well, have you tried ___?” That question can feel discouraging and invalidating.
“If you have a chronic illness, it’s likely you’ve heard some variation of the question, ‘Well, have you tried ___?’”
When I began to have regular, unrelenting chronic pain in my back, I tried everything: supplements, diet changes, acupuncture, chiropractic, physical therapy, steroid injections, exercising more, exercising less, begging God on my hands and knees to remove the thorn from my flesh like the apostle Paul in 2 Corinthians (that sounds like a joke, but alas, it is not). After trying all these things to treat my pain, hearing someone say, “Well, have you tried ___?” just made me feel like I wasn’t doing enough, like the solution to all my problems was within arm’s reach if I just tried a little harder to grab it. It made me feel like my illness was my fault because I was being too passive and not trying what they knew for sure would cure me.
If you have a product you think could benefit your chronically ill friend, wait for THEM to ask YOU for support. Don’t offer unsolicited advice or insinuate that they need to try harder to help themselves. They’ve likely tried so much already.
This random interaction with my former coworker makes me laugh now. It wasn’t the first time someone tried to sell me something for my chronic illness, and I’m positive it won’t be the last. When it happens again, I’m ready to respond. The teacher and advocate inside of me now sees these interactions as opportunities for education. Maybe this person selling supplements doesn’t understand how their pitch comes across, but I can explain that to them with grace and patience. And if I take the time to kindly engage in conversation with them, that conversation might produce another advocate for the chronically ill. Or at the very least, maybe they’ll feel bad and offer me a discount code. I do love a good sale!
Written by: Bailey Humphrey, EdD
If you love "The Bachelorette," a good podcast, artisan grilled cheese sandwiches, or are just a human being in general, it's time to "accept this rose" and become BFFs with Bailey. A High School English teacher and cheerleading coach by day, Bailey's off-hours are often spent in her living room curled up with a book, a Brown Sugar Oatmilk Shaken Espresso in hand, and her German Shepherd/Border Collie mix, Willie, at her feet. We have nothin' but good things to say about this fabulous member of our volunteer Writing Team!
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