With SMA, slowing down becomes its own kind of strength

Autumn and I have always had a complicated relationship. Its golden hues, pumpkin-patch allure, and cozy feelings entrance me like no other. Yet, amid this season’s spell lies one hard truth to accept: Winter is coming. For those of us living with spinal muscular atrophy (SMA), this means more than just a change in season.

I can already feel it in my bones. The air is getting chilly. The days are becoming shorter, and my body is starting to adapt to a slower pace. As much as I have learned to embrace slowness during the winter months, it isn’t something I would intentionally choose. After all, I have a natural tendency to be productive. I need to feel useful, as though my life is constantly in motion. If I’m staying busy, SMA isn’t winning. Or at least that’s what my twisted way of thinking has coaxed me into believing.

Instead, winter nudges me into a different way of living. Beyond the chill in the air, it’s the heightened risk of illness during cold and flu season that urges me to move through the upcoming months more carefully. Living with SMA means even the most minor cold can be dangerous to my health. Every cough, sniffle, or red nose I come in contact with could send my body into a downward spiral. My weakened muscles simply aren’t strong enough to fight an illness on their own, and that reality prompts me to take extra precautions.

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So I hunker down. I limit visits with friends and time spent in public, and I do what it takes to reduce my exposure to germs. During this time, rest and the art of slowing down become a rhythm my body must accept, despite how much I want to keep going, creating, and showing up in the world at my leisure.

For years, I resisted this feeling, and frankly, there’s a part of me that still does. The winter can feel so isolating, as if no one knows what I’m going through. I open my phone to see friends at restaurants and concerts, families on vacation, and people living life as they normally would in any season of the year. Feelings of resentment and loneliness leave me wondering why I do this at the expense of my mental health.

But then I remember the hospitalizations, the close calls, and all the times I begged God to let me live to see another day. And I remember why I do this year after year.

Every year, winter reminds me that life doesn’t always have to be about busyness. While there’s a part of me that will always feel an impending dread as autumn comes to a close, I know a different kind of strength is waiting for me when I lean into the slowness of my days. After all, slowing down quiets all the noise and chaos that SMA brings. It makes room for rest, reflection, and restoration.

As winter approaches, I will carry this truth with me. I will choose to rest without guilt. And just as every winter eventually gives way to spring, I will remind myself that I, too, am still moving forward, even if it’s in a quiet, gentler way.

Note: SMA News Today is strictly a news and information website about the disease. It does not provide medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. This content is not intended to be a substitute for professional medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. Always seek the advice of your physician or other qualified health provider with any questions you may have regarding a medical condition. Never disregard professional medical advice or delay in seeking it because of something you have read on this website. The opinions expressed in this column are not those of SMA News Today or its parent company, Bionews, and are intended to spark discussion about issues pertaining to spinal muscular atrophy.