I was diagnosed with Parkinson’s Disease in March 2023, just weeks before my 43rd birthday. I attended the appointment alone after a long drive, completed a series of tests, and was told matter-of-factly that I had Parkinson’s. I left with information, medication options, and a plan for further testing—but little emotional reaction. My response was practical and familiar: Okay, what do I need to do?

That same steady resolve has carried me through many major life challenges, and it guided how I handled this diagnosis. I told my son and parents immediately, followed by close family, friends, and my supervisor. I also chose to share my diagnosis publicly right away to avoid speculation and stigma around my visible tremor.

Emotion took longer to arrive. Several months after my diagnosis, I first felt real frustration during an occupational therapy appointment as I recognized how much my movement had changed. More recently, grief surfaced fully. One quiet morning, lying next to my partner, I felt the tremor in my left arm and whispered an apology to my own body—an unexpected moment of sadness and self-blame that stayed with me all day. That evening, through tears, I finally shared the weight of it with my partner, not wanting to worry him, but realizing I couldn’t carry it alone.

Parkinson’s doesn’t show up in my life as inspiration—it shows up as loss, fear, anger, and exhaustion. Hope, for me, isn’t optimism or positivity. It’s getting up anyway. It’s naming what hurts instead of hiding it. It’s staying in motion even when my body doesn’t cooperate. That is my Hope in Motion.