When I was 9, I was diagnosed with juvenile arthritis. It’s an autoimmune rheumatic disease that causes joint aching, swelling, and inflammation. After 2 years of spending weekends at different polyclinics and hospitals to visit a wide range of specialists, my family was relieved to finally understand the cause of my pain. For a while already I had been unwilling to engage in any physical activities, refusing playdate invites to stay home and read. But, while some comfort can be found in the ability to recognize the issue, not every illness can be cured. When it comes to arthritis, there’s still no remedy.
Having limited mobility, I found myself having an abundant amount of excess time. Most of it I spent drawing, writing, reading, and gathering recycled materials to make dollhouses for my toys. During this period I uncovered my two deepest passions- architecture and science. Right then I set myself the “raison d'etre” - to devote my life towards building a more inclusive world for the next generations, an idea I still stand by and hope to implement in my future career in the field of architecture.
It wasn’t until I turned 12 that I decided to challenge my long-held beliefs about being disabled for life, experimenting with fasting, vegetarianism, and beginning a more active lifestyle. I’ll never forget the first time I tried running. Years of sedentary lifestyle had taken their toll on my lungs and heart; within 100 meters I was gasping for air, the tears formed by anger, disappointment, and dissatisfaction with myself, running down my cheeks in the bitter autumn air. If someone had then told me that during high school I'd be able to run half-marathons, I'd laugh at them. They were less than 100 meters I run that day. Yet they were the first 100 meters towards my new life.
I returned to the same spot the next day, prepared to feel miserable, not prepared to give in. After a couple of months of maintaining the new evening routine of running, crying, then running some more, I realized that exercising didn’t cause more pain than merely sitting still. And finding myself running a little further week by week, I came to the realization that having arthritis doesn’t mean I have an excuse not to do something. It simply means that I need to put in more work than most people. This realization lit up the fire in me, inspiring me to dream big, forget about boundaries, and fully immerse myself in reaching a goal.
After about a year of maintaining healthy lifestyle habits, my suffering eased. I would wake up in the mornings, noting that I haven't woken up to the sharp pain in my knees throughout the night. And once I stopped using the medicine, which had side effects like headaches and clouding of consciousness, it felt like I had woken from a decade-long slumber. I picked up new hobbies, joined multiple community clubs, and started self-studying physics and mathematics in my spare time.
While the childhood battle with arthritis itself wasn't pleasurable, it has shaped me into who I am today. The experience taught me to be persistent, and see personal disadvantages as a reference point, a seed for growth. It has turned me into a more empathic person and shown the importance of an accessible environment. Recently I used my personal experience to create an interior design for a disabled person for the final year project coursework at school, and I am currently working on an actual interior design project for an accessible restaurant in New York.