Essentially, this genetic disease means that my body can’t make a protein called dystrophin, which my muscles need to keep moving. Without it, my muscle cells have started to weaken and die off. At age 12, I started using a wheelchair because walking became too difficult.
I’m 15 now, but in the seven years that have passed since my diagnosis, I have refused to let this disease slow me down. Getting diagnosed with DMD was extremely hard (although I think it was harder for my parents than it was for me), and I was forced to come to terms with certain limitations at a far earlier age than most people.