July is <\/em><\/em>Disability Pride Month<\/em><\/em><\/a>.<\/p>\n As told to <\/em><\/em>Jacquelyne Froeber<\/em><\/em><\/a><\/p>\n I was born breech \u2014 feet first \u2014 on December 3, 1993.<\/p>\n Of course, I don\u2019t remember anything from that day.<\/p>\n I don\u2019t remember when the healthcare providers tried to turn me during delivery or when things escalated and I was delivered using forceps.<\/p>\n I don\u2019t remember how scared my parents were when they learned I\u2019d had a stroke at birth that affected the right side of my brain and caused a lack of oxygen during delivery that impacted the left side of my body.<\/p>\n I don\u2019t remember being diagnosed with a type of cerebral palsy called hemiparesis<\/a> or hearing that I may not be able to walk or use the left side of my body.<\/p>\n All I remember is love.<\/p>\n Growing up, my family did everything they could to normalize the fact that my entire left side \u2014 most noticeably my arm and hand \u2014 didn\u2019t work like my right side. It wasn\u2019t until I was 5 or 6 that I even realized that there were activities like the monkey bars that I probably couldn\u2019t do. The realization didn\u2019t make me sad. I just knew I\u2019d have to find my own way of doing certain things.<\/p>\n I went to occupational therapy and physical therapy for years, which played a huge role in my life and helped me maintain the function I had for many years. But as I grew, the tightness in my left hand gradually increased despite therapy.<\/p>\n Although I had a strong support network, the fear of being a burden was always in the back of my head, especially after I moved away from home. I was constantly worried that friends would think I was needy if I asked for help with \u201csimple\u201d tasks like putting my hair in a ponytail or opening a jar of sauce. All of the negative talk was in my head, but I convinced myself that asking for help was a sign of weakness.<\/p>\n I did my best to avoid situations or conversations where I had to explain my left arm. I lived in self-deprecation mode, always trying to keep things light and avoid the awkwardness that followed \u201cI had a stroke when I was born.\u201d<\/p>\n Dating was particularly difficult. Dating in New York City is hard no matter who you are, but it was really hard for me to put myself out there, partly because my cerebral palsy is an invisible disability \u2014 you wouldn\u2019t necessarily know about my limitations until I had to do something with both hands. I intentionally avoided dinner on first dates because I didn’t want to draw attention to eating with one hand or have to explain my arm.<\/p>\n When the pandemic hit, I felt more alone than ever. Like so many people, I turned to social media to connect with friends and family. One night, I had a random thought: Are there online groups for people like me with hemiparesis? <\/p>\n I typed the word into the search bar, and my whole world changed. <\/p>\n The thought of an online support community had never occurred to me before that moment. I\u2019d never met anyone else with hemiparesis \u2014 I\u2019d just assumed my condition was rare. But there were support groups, and one had thousands of members from around the world.<\/p>\n I immediately signed up and started talking to people in the community. For the first time in my life, I felt understood. I was free to talk about my struggles. Free to talk about the chronic pain I was in from the tight tendons in my left arm. Free to vent about adapting in a world that\u2019s not made for people with limitations. The more I learned from other people in the group, the more I wanted to share my experiences to help others. <\/p>\n Even though I was riddled with self-doubt, I started posting videos about hemiparesis. I figured if I could help one person who was living with cerebral palsy, it was worth being vulnerable and pushing myself outside my comfort zone. <\/p>\n Through social media, I built an incredibly meaningful community of people who have hemiparesis and parents of children with hemiparesis or cerebral palsy. Being able to connect with the parents was full circle for me. I didn\u2019t know anyone with hemiparesis when I was growing up, and being told I was a role model for kids with limitations meant everything to me.<\/p>\n After a few years of posting, I started focusing more intentionally on sharing my life story and how I had a stroke at birth. The response I received online was overwhelming. Within a few months, I had millions of views and hundreds of people reaching out to thank me for spreading awareness about pediatric stroke and hemiparesis.<\/p>\n Each comment and conversation reinforced to me just how powerful it is to feel understood and to feel seen. When I stopped hiding and started sharing, my entire life changed. Most recently, I fell in love, moved to North Carolina to be close to my love, and started a new career focusing on raising awareness about stroke and cerebral palsy. <\/p>\n My hope is that everyone living with limitations \u2014 invisible or not \u2014 has a voice and an opportunity to live a full and fulfilling life. It took me a while to find my voice, but now that I have, I want to be part of the change. <\/p>\n Have your own Real Women, Real Stories you want to share? <\/em><\/em>Let us know<\/em><\/em><\/a>.<\/em><\/em><\/p>\n Our Real Women, Real Stories are the authentic experiences of real-life women. The views, opinions and experiences shared in these stories are not endorsed by HealthyWomen and do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of HealthyWomen.<\/em><\/em><\/p>\n![\"Rachel](\"https:\/\/www.healthywomen.org\/media-library\/rachel-at-1-year-old-1994.jpg?id=67150038&width=980\")
Rachel at 1 year old, 1994<\/small><\/p>\n![\"\"\/](\"https:\/\/www.healthywomen.org\/media-library\/rachel-in-bend-oregon-2025.jpg?id=67150043&width=980\")
Rachel in Bend, Oregon, 2025<\/small><\/p>\n![\"Rachel](\"https:\/\/www.healthywomen.org\/media-library\/rachel-and-her-boyfriend-2025.png?id=67150051&width=980\")
Rachel and her boyfriend, 2025<\/small><\/p>\n