Poem for a woman diagnosed with Cutis Laxa

She had been told that it would be difficult

She had been told that her body would be a limit, that her rare disease would draw the contours of her life before she even had time to dream. The doctors spoke of caution. Some spoke of the impossible.

But she spoke of hope.

Her adolescence was not kind. The gazes, the judgments, the criticisms… She was sometimes reduced to diagnosis, as if she was just a medical label. We doubted her, her strength, her future.

Yet, behind the silences and tears, there was quiet determination. A desire to prove – not to others, but to herself – that her life is not dictated by fear.

The disease is there, yes. Real. Demanding. Sometimes unfair.

But she chose to fight. To heal herself, to listen to her body, to fall and get back up. She turned every doubt into a driving force. Each critic in energy. Every obstacle in learning.

She didn’t grow up despite the disease. She grew up with it.

Today she is married. She has children. She lives what she was told is uncertain, even unattainable. Not because everything was easy – but because she never stopped believing. It proved that a diagnosis is not a destiny, that a difficult adolescence does not define an entire life.

Her story is not one of a miracle.

It is that of a fight.

Of silent perseverance.

Of hope that was kept alive every day, even when everything seemed bleak.

And above all, it is proof that one can overcome predictions, judgments and despair…. When you decide not to give up.

Many Thanks to the anonymous writter of these words