My Battle With Parkinsonism: Shaken But Not Broken

I began dancing at the age of four and continued until my sophomore year of high school. It was more than just a hobby — it was a part of my identity. The sound of pointe shoes on the studio floor, the thrill of nailing a razor-sharp turn and the satisfaction of high kicks on relevé were second nature to me. But then, suddenly, everything changed.  

The beginning of my Parkinsonism appeared when the precision that once defined my movements vanished. Those effortless turns wobbled. My kicks lost their height and strength. While my peers chased dreams of professional dance careers, I needed to catch up. It became painfully clear that something was wrong, though I couldn’t articulate what. Instead, I convinced myself — and everyone else — that I wasn’t interested anymore. And so, I quit.  

But deep down, I couldn’t stop wondering: What was happening to me?  

Years later, I would finally get my answer. The road to that moment was long and grueling, marked by endless medical tests, cheek swabs, blood draws, tubes to spit in and more appointments than I could count. The culmination of all this effort was a tentative diagnosis: Parkinsonism, a complex movement disorder.  

Dr. Hesham Abboud, my neurologist at University Hospitals of Cleveland, once told me I resembled an end-stage Parkinson’s patient when he first saw me in 2019. I had a laundry list of symptoms: gait disorder, muscle rigidity, essential tremor and dystonia. My body felt like a battlefield I had lost control of. Simple tasks like eating a meal became minor catastrophes — I wore more food than I managed to eat.  

The shaking wasn’t just a physical ordeal; it became a social one, too. Strangers would stare, whisper and draw harsh conclusions about why I trembled so severely. I wish I could tell you that I grew a thick skin and learned to brush off the stares, but the truth is, it always felt like a kick to the gut. No amount of resilience can make such moments less painful when you’re someone who feels deeply.  

By 2020, the diagnosis became more apparent: I didn’t have Parkinson’s disease, but I exhibited many of its symptoms. Unlike Parkinson’s, Parkinsonism isn’t accompanied by brain lesions, but it still demands constant adaptation, a complex medication regimen and an endless reserve of patience.  

The medications came with their own set of challenges. Fatigue hit me hard, leaving me sedated for long periods. As an online student, I worked asynchronously, but my days often didn’t start until after 1 p.m. because of how heavily the drugs weighed me down.  

But, this story doesn’t end in despair. Somewhere along the way, I found purpose again. I was inspired by innovators like the creators of Guide Beauty and decided to channel my challenges into something meaningful. I took to the internet, sharing tips and tricks I had discovered for living with a movement disorder. I showed others how to salvage stained clothes, apply winged eyeliner with shaky hands and navigate the little things that often felt insurmountable.  

What started as a way to connect turned into a mission. Brands began to notice, and I soon collaborated with them as an ambassador.  

Meanwhile, I focused on my health. Regular exercise on a stationary bike became a cornerstone of my routine, and with time, my neurologist noted “moderate improvement” in my symptoms. Rapid, repetitive exercise was a game-changer, and I’d recommend it to anyone navigating a similar diagnosis.  

Today, I’m tackling new challenges as a first-year student at The Ohio State University, though I’m far from traditional. I’m older than most of my peers, and they haven’t yet grappled with the vulnerabilities life eventually throws at everyone. Watching them, I feel a bittersweet mix of admiration and envy. There’s something beautiful about living without a second thought for your body’s limitations.  

If I could share just one message with them, it would be this: Appreciate your body. Celebrate that you can walk across campus without severe muscle spasms or struggle. Embrace every moment of movement and strength because you never know when it might change. 

Life is precious, even with its challenges, and I intend to love every second I’ve been given.

• college
• diagnosis
• life experience
• mental health
• parkinsonism
• parkinsonism diagnosis