I rarely ever cry. That’s a lie. I cry an average amount. I’m especially sensitive in moments of stress or tension. I’ve been known to burst into tears at the first sign of confrontation, which, as I’m sure you can imagine, is less than great for my reputation. But I…
The Wolf Finally Frees Itself
— Brianna Albers
Brianna Albers (she/her) is a crip-cyborg storyteller living in Minneapolis-St. Paul. She was diagnosed with spinal muscular atrophy type 2 in 1996 and lives with co-occurring physical and mental health conditions. By day she works as an advocate, bridging disability and mental health awareness to empower people to live their best lives; by night, she dabbles in imagination, and is currently writing “An Angel in the Garden,” an adult space fantasy with #OwnVoices disability representation. Find her online at briannahopealbers.com and on social media @briehalbers.
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When I returned from the annual Cure SMA conference this summer, I knew something needed to change. I made a list of everything I’d been putting off, like finding a new therapist and setting up the photo shoot I’d been dreaming of for over a year. Then, in a…
By the time you read this, my dad will be back where he belongs. I am, of course, joking. My dad has a life outside of his caregiving duties, as he should. But there’s some truth to the claim that, in his absence, things tend to fall apart. If…
When it comes to COVID-19, I’ve been pretty darn lucky. I can count on one hand the number of people I know who haven’t gotten COVID-19 — myself among them. Somehow, miraculously, I’ve managed to avoid the plague. I could attribute my health to literal years of quarantine, but the…
Late last month, I posted a Reel for Disability Pride Month about comparison. I’ve written previously about jealousy and the dangers of comparing yourself with others, especially when you’re living with a chronic illness like SMA. You lose perspective. You start to blame yourself for things that are…
Sometimes it feels like I’m living two separate lives. I’m very intentional when it comes to social media. My Instagram account is a carefully curated feed of Reels, cat pictures, and pastel-colored infographics. This is my cottagecore life. I wear dresses, listen to classical music, and wish I…
As I write this, my dad debates the longevity of one of my favorite dresses. I bought it used, so I don’t feel bad retiring it. But my dad is hesitant, despite the fact that he throws a fit every time I put it on. I’m purging my wardrobe, so…
As part of this column, I’ve taken to recording encounters with ignorant — if well-meaning — healthcare providers. Fortunately for me, those encounters have been few and far between. But that doesn’t make those few-and-far-between encounters any less frustrating. A few months ago, I wrote about a trip to…
Longtime readers of my column will know that I am fellow columnist Sherry Toh’s biggest fan. Navigating SMA alongside her has been one of the greatest honors of my life. This week, Sherry and I thought it would be fun to interview each other — not only…
It’s been a minute since I put my degree in counseling to good use. Let’s change that, shall we? Last week, I wrote about a recent ghost vacation. For those who didn’t read that column, here’s the gist: I came back from this year’s Cure SMA conference with a…
“Sometimes I pretend I’m dead.” This sounds like the lead-in to a particularly macabre joke. But in actuality, it’s a personal practice with the potential to revolutionize our approach to self-care. My friend Andrea Hannah calls it a “ghost vacation.” “Sometimes I pretend I’m dead,” Andrea likes to…
Three years into my collaboration with biotech company Genentech, and I still feel like a fish out of water. This is what professionals call impostor syndrome (IS), defined by Lexico as “the persistent inability to believe that one’s success is deserved or has been legitimately achieved as a…
I could tell you about Old Santa Fe, New Mexico. Cobblestone streets, framed by blooms of green. The town jail turned bookstore — a refuge from the heat, and a haven for my mom and me. St. Francis’ cathedral, with winding, tranquil gardens. I could tell you about the Painted…
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