There’s a fire in me I can’t ignore anymore.
For years, I’ve lived with chronic illness. It’s shaped every decision, every plan, every ounce of energy I have. And for a long time, I thought it meant I had to shrink my dreams, keep quiet, stay grateful just to survive.
But something’s shifting.
I recently heard Rutger Bregman, author of Moral Ambition, say:
“What if you aimed your ambition at doing the most good? Not chasing comfort or prestige—but choosing the path where you contribute the most?”
And it stopped me cold.
Because I have always wanted to do good. But chronic illness made me believe that my voice wasn’t loud enough, that my effort wouldn’t be enough. That’s a lie I’m done believing.
I may not be able to march every day or stay up all night organizing, but I’m still here. I still see what’s broken. And I still burn to change it.
I want universal healthcare—including dental, vision, mental health.
I want reproductive rights—for all genders.
I want corporate monopolies broken, oligarchs taxed, and clean jobs prioritized.
I want protections against predatory tech, social media harm, and biased AI.
I want a public education system that’s safe, brilliant, and free.
I want women’s health research funded like our lives depend on it—because they do.
I’m tired of pretending that just surviving is all I’m here to do.
Living with chronic illness hasn’t weakened my ambition—it’s clarified it. It’s sharpened my sense of what matters. It’s made me fierce.
So here I am. With less energy than most. With more pain than I ever wanted. And with more fire than ever.
I’m done waiting for the world to make space for me. I’m carving it out.
And I’ll use every ounce of strength I have to leave this world better than I found it.