For the past 23 years, I’ve closely guarded an embarrassing secret: I was not vaccinated.

In my younger years, the fact that I was unvaccinated never registered as an issue. I didn’t understand the public health implications of vaccines and, even more, I didn’t understand how unorthodox it was for my parents to have chosen not to vaccinate me. Like any kid, I just wanted to fit in; so when kids in my class talked about their yearly flu shots, I would simply nod along, pretending I understood their annual agony.

I was raised by two liberal naturopathic physicians in Oregon. In some ways, my parents are the cliché new-age hippies that everyone jokes about. They spend far too much money on organic groceries, have bees that produce homemade honey and fed me kale, and almond butter and jelly sandwiches on spelt bread years before it was trendy. Oh, and the cherry on top? My last name is made-up. Neither of them felt “connected” to their suburban midwestern families, so rather than keeping their maiden names, they created a new surname when my older brother was born in the 80s.

By the time I came along – the third and final child – it wasn’t even a question of whether I would be vaccinated or not. Neither of my older siblings had received any shots, and neither would I. It wasn’t until I was about 11 years old and I kicked a metal table – making a gouge in my right foot – that I got my first vaccination, for tetanus. It was a kind of an awakening for me, and it made me question why it had taken so long for me to experience what I had heard my friends complain about for years.

When I began high school, I kept my vaccine history a secret. I opted to attend a private Catholic high school – much to my parents’ dismay – and didn’t feel the need to tell my friends about my unconventional upbringing. My parents took care of all the necessary medical forms, and the school never objected to the medical choices that had been made for me. When I was 15, I was feeling particularly insecure after a health lesson devoted to vaccines and I finally asked my Mom why I hadn’t been vaccinated. I felt like a social pariah, living in constant fear of being exposed. My Mom casually brushed off the question: “Vaccines have adverse side-effects,” she told me, “I was protecting you”.

Now don’t get me wrong, my parents are not quacks. They went to medical school and, although their degrees focused on alternative medicine, they are both respected and highly admired as human beings and professionals. However, to this day, my Mom’s nonchalant response toward such a hotly debated topic has left me unsettled, but didn’t affect my daily life.

That is until 2012, when I was 20 and studying abroad in Italy. When a rash began to appear on my chest, I assumed it was from stress and homesickness. But I quickly began to feel lethargic, and the blotchy red rash spread across my entire body. I went to see the school physician and within minutes I had been diagnosed, sent home and quarantined. Much to my dismay and confusion, I was told that I had contracted German measles, also known as rubella: a disease that has been eradicated in the United States, thanks to a vaccination that prevents it — a serum that I never received.

News of my illness quickly spread through my program, and after a week of bed rest and quarantine I returned to school to face questions about why I wasn’t vaccinated. Having to explain this to my peers and professors was an arduous task – and I felt attacked. Everyone who heard that I wasn’t vaccinated responded with judgment, saying how ignorant it was, how I was negligent, and that it was ridiculous not to vaccinate children. And there I was, 20 years old and embarrassed by a decision that I had no say in.

I was made to feel like a danger to society and a threat to the welfare of others. After all the judgment rendered by both friends and strangers, not a single person has asked me how being unvaccinated has affected me or what my thoughts are on my parents’ decision.

All the criticism assumes that I agree with my parents’ actions. The same actions which left me vulnerable to preventable diseases. But I don’t. After three years, extensive research and meetings with physicians, I came to the conclusion that I want to become vaccinated, like the rest of the population. A few weeks ago I finally started that process - on my own accord.