MS Awareness Week 2026 – ‘Disability doesn’t take away my voice or my independence’

Natasha Rowe, 23, from Wiltshire is a Criminology Masters student and lives at home with her mum, dad and dog, Bear, and reveals why MS Awareness Week is vital after assumptions she has experienced since her diagnosis as a teenager

‘I remember sitting on the bus in the disabled seats because I needed the extra leg room – my legs get sore quite quickly. An older man approached me and asked, ‘Are you disabled?’ When I said yes, he reacted with a kind of scoff, like he didn’t believe me. It was such a small moment, but it stuck with me. What made it harder was that he didn’t question anyone else sitting in the disabled seats, just me. It felt like I was being singled out, judged, and made to prove something that shouldn’t have needed explaining in the first place.

‘Another time, I was on holiday with my friend, checking in at reception. I had made the booking, so I was the one speaking to the person at the front desk. When they asked why I had requested a ground-floor room, I explained that I struggle with stairs due to a disability.

‘As soon as I said that, something changed. He stopped speaking to me altogether and directed everything to my friend instead – like I had suddenly disappeared from the conversation. It was such a subtle shift, but it felt deeply unsettling. In that moment, it was as if my independence was overlooked, and I was no longer seen as capable of speaking for myself.’

Natasha was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis just six months after her 18^th birthday.

‘My first noticeable symptom was waking up one day and realising my left eye was completely blurry, almost like something was stuck in it. It was painful every time I moved it. At the time, I put it down to stress or too much screen time from college work.

‘At the start of my diagnosis, if I’m being completely honest, it felt like my world had collapsed. Everything I had imagined for my future had suddenly seemed so out of reach. I became overwhelmed by this deep, sinking feeling that my life, as I knew it, was over.

‘I couldn’t see a way forward. I just saw all these limitations. I had convinced myself that I would never be able to do things I had always dreamed of. For example, travelling, reaching certain life goals, building a life on my own terms, felt completely impossible. Almost like someone had come along overnight and stolen those parts of my future from me.

‘More than anything, I was scared that I would lose my independence completely, that I would always have to rely on someone else to care for me, every hour of every day. That fear stayed with me, making everything feel uncertain and out of control, and for a while it was hard to imagine a life that could ever feel full or meaningful again.’

Despite feeling as if her ‘life had ended’, lost and hopeless, something shifted in her just a matter of months later.

‘I realised I couldn’t keep living in that headspace, I didn’t want my story to end there. I decided, I wasn’t going to let this define me or stop me from living my life, I told myself, I have something to prove. So, I pushed myself, even when it felt impossible.’

After a four months break, she went back to college and work. She remembers sitting in the hospital during infusion treatments, working on assignments, refusing to fall behind because she was determined to achieve the grades she knew she was capable of.

‘I went back to work, as a retail assistant, where I challenged myself to take on new roles and responsibilities, proving myself that I was still capable, still growing and still moving forward. It wasn’t easy, and there were moments when it felt overwhelming, but I refused to let my circumstances take control of my future. I chose to keep going, no matter how hard it got.’

There’s one symptom that Natasha admits is the hardest to deal with.

‘I would say fatigue has been the hardest part for me, my number one daily challenge. It’s not just being tired, but something so much heavier than that. It feels like my entire body is weighed down, like my limbs are filled with cement and simply can’t move, no matter how much I try to push through.

‘At the beginning, it wasn’t just fatigue. I was dealing with so many other symptoms all at once: constant sickness, a tingling sensation that spread through my whole body, deep bone aches, persistent headaches, moments where my speech became slurred and even difficulty swallowing. It was very overwhelming, like my body was no longer my own and I had to learn how to cope with all of it at the same time.’

Natasha said there’s a common assumption that the word ‘disabled’ automatically means being a full-time wheelchair user, as if disability can only look one way.

‘There’s this idea that because I have a disability, I’m somehow unable to speak for myself or advocate for my own needs. But disability isn’t one-size-fits-all, and it doesn’t take away my voice, my independence, or my ability to make my own decisions.’

And that’s not where the assumptions end. She has experienced so much more.

‘That I don’t ‘look’ disabled, so I must be exaggerating or lying. That my condition can’t be that serious if I’m still working, studying, or going out. That I’m always unwell or incapable, rather than having good and bad days.

‘That I should ‘push through’ or try harder, as if I’m just not making enough effort. That I need help all the time, or the opposite – that I don’t need help at all. That my disability defines everything about me, instead of being just one part of who I am. That I must feel sorry for myself or live a limited, unhappy life.

‘That accessibility needs are an inconvenience, rather than something necessary. That I’m less independent, less capable, or less intelligent because of my condition. That people can speak over me or for me, instead of directly to me. It’s endless.

‘The truth is, disability doesn’t look one specific way, and it doesn’t take away who I am. It’s just one part of my life – it doesn’t define my abilities, my independence, or my future.’

These misjudgements leave Natasha feeling frustrated and exhausted.

‘It’s not just the words or actions themselves, but the way they make me feel unseen and misunderstood. Being judged or spoken over because of my disability made me feel like I had to justify my existence, when all I wanted was to be treated with the same respect as everyone else.’

She also has some wise words for anyone who finds themselves with a diagnosis.

‘I want other young people with multiple sclerosis to know that the moment of diagnosis can feel like everything has ended. I felt that too, it felt like my future had been taken away and replaced with uncertainty and fear.

‘But what I’ve learned is that those feelings don’t get to define your entire story. There came a point where I realised I couldn’t stay in that mindset forever. I chose to push forward, even when it was difficult, even when my body didn’t feel like my own.

‘I kept going, not because it was easy, but because I refused to let MS take away who I am or what I’m capable of becoming. MS doesn’t erase ambition, independence, or dreams. It just means learning a different way to reach them. And if I can keep moving forward through this, then others can too – even on the hardest days.’

Natasha is also running the London Marathon this year.

‘A huge inspiration for me to take on the London Marathon this year has been my uncle, Vince, who completed it last year. Watching him achieve something like that made me realise what’s still possible, even when life looks different to how you imagined.

‘It gave me a sense of hope and determination at a time when I needed it most. Being able to share this experience with him, my mum Sharon, and my dad Glyn makes it even more special and emotional for me.

‘With that in mind, I feel incredibly privileged and genuinely honoured to have been asked, alongside my mum, my uncle, and my dad, to take part in the London Marathon 2026 on behalf of MS-UK. It means so much more than just a race it represents resilience, family, and proving to myself that I’m still capable of achieving big things, even with MS.

‘I will be using my wheelchair when I need to throughout the marathon, and my family will be there every step of the way, supporting me and pushing me when I need to rest. Knowing I won’t be doing it alone makes it even more meaningful.’

Natasha has been in the gym every morning weightlifting and enjoying longer walks at the weekend and feels ready to support her favourite charity.

‘I chose to run for MS-UK because MS is something that has completely changed my life, so supporting a charity that understands and works directly with people affected by it means a lot to me. After my diagnosis, I experienced first-hand how overwhelming and isolating it can feel, especially when you’re trying to understand what your future might look like.MS-UK has been an important source of support and awareness for people living with MS, and I want to help contribute to the work they do, whether that’s funding research, improving understanding, or supporting others who are going through similar experiences.’

A glass half-full girl, Natasha remains optimistic for the future.

‘MS has been a positive diagnosis for me, it’s helped turn my life around and made me determined to smash those myths surrounding MS and disabilities – why shouldn’t I be able to achieve my dreams just because I have MS?

‘My grandmother also had MS and was determined to live life to the full even though she was a fulltime wheelchair user – I’ve inherited her stubborn streak!’