MS might not kill me, but it did kill the old me.

When I first got my Multiple Sclerosis diagnosis, my doctor tried to reassure me with the words: “You won’t die because of MS; you’ll live with it, and hopefully, you’ll pass away due to old age or another cause, not directly from the disease.” He said this with a comforting smile, but I wasn’t ready to fully trust him. How could he be so sure? We’ve all heard the terrifying stories about MS, and it took me weeks to start believing his words. At that time, I felt almost lifeless. I was sitting on a mattress in a room, unable to walk on my own, and my new puppy was there, but I couldn’t play with her. The old me, before my first relapse, would have played with her, taken photos of her little adventures, and simply been myself.

From my experience, MS doesn’t just affect your physical health—it transforms who you are. The vibrant, energetic person I used to be feels harder to access now. It’s not that I’m no longer vibrant or happy; I am. It’s just that being that old self requires much more effort these days. Life feels heavier with all the small symptoms that come with MS, and together they create an ever larger challenge. So it’s not just about managing symptoms; it’s about adapting to a new way of life and figuring out who I am now.

The transformation from the “old me” to the “new me” is also more than just dealing with what I just mentioned. It’s also about coming to terms with the loss of certain dreams, plans, and relationships. My greatest enemy, the brain fog, entered the game as player two (at least I still remember gaming puns), and suddenly I couldn’t learn things the same way I used to. I moved to Belgium around that time and went to Dutch language school, but it felt like nothing was sticking. I was embarrassed. I felt dumb. I had never had this problem before. And my ability to concentrate and even maintain eye contact? Nope, that was gone. It was like I had taken several steps backward in my ability to think. I remember being so angry that I had postponed my plans to further my education until I was 24 and received my diagnosis. So angry. Imagine how much easier it would have been to finish university before my body started to break down.

There’s a kind of mourning involved—a letting go of the life I had envisioned and the person I thought I would always be, along with the plans and dreams I’ve had my whole life. It’s like flipping through an old photo album and realizing that the person in those pictures has changed. And that’s okay, because I have no choice but to accept it and instead take care of my new self.

And YET, within this damn struggle, there’s a hidden gift: the chance for renewal. Adapting to life with MS often means making significant changes to support my body and everything else. For me, this has included adopting healthier habits, and I know, I know, it sounds boring, but it doesn’t have to be!

I’ve become more aware that everything I do in my daily life can either help or worsen my symptoms. Pilates a few days a week removes most of the weakness in the right side of my body, which was most affected when I had paralysis a couple of years ago. When I get stressed, everything gets worse, so I try to maintain an attitude that brings me calm instead of becoming upset or irritated, which doesn’t always work, but it has made me a more relaxed person than before. I also take better care of my body regarding food and drinking less alcohol. I doubt I would have made these changes if I hadn’t received the diagnosis, to be completely honest.

But let’s not forget that this journey isn’t easy. Some days are filled with frustration, others with surprising joy. Embracing this new reality means finding pleasure in unexpected places and discovering new interests and passions. The person I am now is different, but that doesn’t mean life can’t be meaningful and rich.

Support from loved ones can also help when you receive a diagnosis and start adjusting to a new life. But sometimes, that’s easier said than done. I know a friend with MS who still hasn’t told his mom about his diagnosis because he doesn’t want to break her heart, and I remember feeling like I needed to support my mom more than myself when I first got diagnosed. I always manage, but how will my dear mom handle it?

My dad, however, stayed calm, and that was a relief. Panic and fear about the future aren’t the best companions in those early weeks; it’s nice to just be in the moment and accept the diagnosis, and having people who listen and give encouragement can make those moments easier. My family and friends’ presence and support mean everything, reminding me that I’m not going through this alone. And they might feel the same way—that there was life before my diagnosis and after, and maybe they, too, have had to become a new person to get through this.

Okay, we’ve got the diagnosis, and it sucks. This new life with MS is about finding a balance between acknowledging what’s been lost, grieving it, and shouting swear words into the void, while also staying open to new possibilities. It’s about remembering the past but not living there; try to embrace the present and the future. The path might not look like what I once imagined, but it can still offer a wonderful and rewarding future. Who knows, I might not have met the love of my life if I hadn’t received the diagnosis, for example?

If I’m going to practice what I preach and stay positive through all the crappy parts, I’ve really learned the importance of flexibility and resilience. It’s about adapting to new circumstances and finding joy in unexpected ways. Every step forward, no matter how small, is fantastic. And to be completely honest, while the old me might feel like a distant memory, I’m happier now than I was back then.