Why me?

I’ve seen no scientific data to prove this, but I’m positive that everyone diagnosed with MS has the same first thought:

Why me?

I remember thinking it wasn’t fair.

Fair is such a bizarre concept. We’re taught early on that if we work hard and do the right things, life will reward us. But life doesn’t always play by those rules. Fairness is as clear as trying to understand a physics equation written in hieroglyphs. It’s all about perspective—like trying to convince a toddler that broccoli is good for them or explaining to your dog that baths are actually fun.

I used to believe the universe worked like a giant game of Chutes and Ladders. Do good, climb up. Mess up, slide down. The good kids would reach the top, the bad ones would end up in the depths of despair. But as I got older, I realized life doesn’t keep score that way.

If fairness was real, I wouldn’t have MS. Or at the very least, it would have shown up later in life, not when I was 27 years old and two months away from my wedding. That’s the kind of plot twist no one prepares you for.

But that’s not how it works. Life isn’t fair. Not for me, not for anyone.

So the real question is—why is it that when bad things happen, we immediately ask, Why me? But when something good happens, we rarely stop to ask, What did I do to deserve this?

I don’t have an answer, but I do know this: Fairness doesn’t matter. What matters is what you do next.

I have MS, but it doesn’t have me. And if fairness won’t define my life, then neither will this disease.