I was 39 when I started feeling off. Not sick—just tired. The kind of tired that doesn’t go away with sleep.
I chalked it up to parenting, work stress, getting older. But when I started forgetting things and waking up with swollen joints, I knew something wasn’t right. It took three different doctors and over a year before I finally got a name for it—an autoimmune condition I had never heard of.
What I wish someone had told me earlier is that it’s okay to advocate for yourself. Just because a test comes back “normal” doesn’t mean you’re imagining things. My diagnosis didn’t fix everything, but it helped me understand my body.
Today, I’m still learning how to manage it. Some days are better than others. But I’ve learned to listen more closely to myself—and to be a little more patient with the process.
If you’re in the middle of not knowing, you’re not alone. Keep asking questions. Keep showing up.