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Dallas Comic Con!

By an amazing twist of fate, a friend of a friend needed a camera woman for Friday at Comic Con. I can’t ignore the universe when it pushes me so hard. First the opportunity to run an ad with Samaze Magazine, then the chance to go and see it in action? I couldn’t say no.


I’m actually extremely nervous. I’ve never been to a convention before. I’ve been reading and re-reading my friend Dallas Fan Girl’s Comic Con Guide. I wish I was cosplaying, but alas, no time. I could revive Darth Maullie, but since I’m specifically going toΒ  represent Do I Look Sick, it’s probably better that I stick to a Do I Look Sick t-shirt.


A part of me keeps asking what I’m sure many of you are asking: Why push Do I Look Sick at Comic Con? What does your blog have to do with fandoms? Why would cosplayers care about health activism? I don’t know. What I do know is that I get these people. I’ve never been to a con, but I love cosplaying. I love anime, I love superheroes, I love Nathan Fillion. 1 in 2 people in the United States have an invisible illness. That’s half of this convention. Even though health activism feels out of place even to me in this setting, I know there are people there who can relate. I know there are cosplayers who used up every last “spoon” to be there. I know there are people there who are who they are because on their sick days they binge watch Supernatural and Doctor Who.

I feel like it’s a good idea. My heart says YAY! But my brain says wtf everyone’s going to think you’re such a weirdo. But it doesn’t even matter because LIKE you’ll actually talk to anyone, Miss Introvert. You’ll hide behind the camera as long as you can, then you probably won’t even be able to muster the courage to buy a plushie, much less strike up a conversation about invisible illness awareness.


But I’m the kind of person who listens to their heart.

But my very mean brain is still giving me trouble. I have a battle plan though. Firstly, I’ll be wearing a bright red t-shirt that says “DO I LOOK SICK?” – I’m hoping this will cause a few extroverts to approach me. Usually I hate being approached by strangers, but I strongly favor this over approaching them. Still, I keep wishing I had cat ears to wear or neon-colored hair, something else to draw people in. There just wasn’t time for hair dye at this last minute. So I went with the next best thing:


Whenever I need a confidence boost, I chop my hair off. This is the shortest to date. Maybe it won’t be that noticeable amidst scantily-clad ladies with pink hair, but I think it’s enough oomph to make me feel like the rockstar I am in my head.

If you’ll be at Comic Con tomorrow, keep an eye out for me! Come up, say hi, snap a pic, and feel my weird shaved head-sides.

Until then, I’ll be trying to trick myself into bravery singing this:



About rachelmeeks

My name is Rachel Meeks. I have endometriosis, an incurable pain condition, IBS, a digestive illness, and PCOS, which causes irregular periods and infertility. After keeping my illnesses a secret, I started to get upset about how my fellow sick people were being mistreated because of ignorance. I knew that I'd need to stand up, make some noise, wear my heart on my sleeve, and admit that I am not well to make a difference.

7 responses to “Dallas Comic Con!

  1. I wish you the best; my prayers are with you.
    The haircut actually looks good on you.

  2. Ha! Ha! Ha! (On two things.) 1) You could have gone shorter on the front. πŸ™‚ (from someone who loves to chop her hair short) (and your haircut looks great!) 2) “I can’t ignore the universe when it pushes so hard.” Nope! You can’t! And the Universe has a funny way of pushing us way out of our comfort zone, eh!?

    Your work is great. And it is perfectly suited for all conventions. Just like you said! Invisible illness is everywhere. And some people don’t know there are other people just like them struggling with similar things. All they know is their doctors and their medicines don’t help. Your little “booth” can be the doorway to a whole new world for them. Especially here, it connects this group with something to know to something that can perhaps help them immensely. Don’t you hide. Chin up. Jaw steeled. Smile at the ready. Be prepared for “What’s this? What’s invisible illness?” That’s what my friends ask when they see my coffee cup. Sorry for the book-long comment.


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