When I was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis in my twenties, later developed ulcerative colitis, and most recently learned I have ADHD, I assumed these labels would define my limits. Instead, they became the blueprint for a different kind of leadership — one rooted in empathy, resilience, and a deep commitment to making the invisible visible.
In my work leading marketing and advocacy in rare and chronic diseases, I’ve learned that lived experience isn’t a liability; it’s a strategic advantage. This is The Advocate’s Advantage: where personal health journeys and professional expertise intersect to shape branding, leadership, and activism that truly connect.
For much of my career, I kept my diagnoses private. I didn’t want pity or lowered expectations, and I feared my health would overshadow my work. But over time, I noticed something: the moments when I let my lived experience guide my decisions, whether in campaign messaging or patient engagement, were the moments when the work resonated most deeply. I began to realize that the “patient” and the “professional” in me weren’t separate identities. Together, they made me a better strategist, collaborator, and leader.
One of the most powerful lessons from working in rare and chronic disease marketing is that authenticity isn’t a buzzword — it’s a lifeline. I’ve seen firsthand how messaging that truly reflects patient realities can transform a campaign from informational to inspirational. In one project, patient advisors shared stories that fundamentally shifted our creative approach. Their voices helped us move beyond clinical language to create messaging that spoke to hope, agency, and real-life challenges. It wasn’t just more compelling; it was more truthful. That’s the kind of alignment you only find when you let lived experience steer the work.
Managing health challenges while leading high-performing teams has taught me the art of prioritization and the necessity of clarity. I’ve had to set boundaries, delegate wisely, and model a kind of leadership that values both results and well-being. Living with multiple sclerosis, ulcerative colitis, and ADHD has given me a sharper sense of what truly matters — and the recent ADHD diagnosis has added another layer of insight into how my brain works and how I can help others play to their own strengths. I’ve learned that transparency isn’t weakness; it’s a bridge to trust. And trust is the foundation of any successful team or movement.
The truth is, every chronic voice carries both a story and a strategy — a perspective that can shape not just conversations, but cultures and outcomes. Whether you’re leading a team, launching a brand, or speaking out for change, your lived experience can be the compass that keeps the work authentic and impactful. My hope for this column is to help chronic leaders, advocates, and allies see that our journeys are not detours from success; they are the very roads that lead us there. Together, we can prove that the strongest brands, the boldest leaders, and the most enduring movements are built when the personal and the professional walk hand in hand.
Ask yourself: