I was born and raised in China and moved to Canada in December 2018 to pursue an MBA in business management with a specialization in finance. My background is in the finance sector, but I also have a deep passion for non-profit management. 

I was diagnosed with Parkinson’s at 21, in 2011, while living in China. Looking back, my first symptoms appeared even earlier—when I was 16, I noticed that my arms didn’t swing when I walked. At the time, I didn’t think much of it. Strangely enough, I had seen a movie called Love and Other Drugs about a woman with Parkinson’s in her 20s, but I never imagined I would one day be diagnosed myself. 

The diagnosis process was challenging. I saw multiple doctors, underwent every test possible, and even spent a month in the hospital before genetic testing confirmed I had early onset Parkinson’s, specifically the PARK2 gene mutation. People with that gene mutation usually have Parkinson’s onset below the age of 20, so it all started to make sense. I have no family history of Parkinson’s or neurological diseases, so the diagnosis came as a complete shock. 

The weight of stigma and secrecy 

When I was diagnosed, my biggest fear was, What does my future look like? The greatest stress I faced wasn’t just the condition itself—it was the stigma. I had just finished my undergraduate degree and started my first job. My family told me to hide my diagnosis as much as possible. I felt like I had to keep it a secret, which took a huge emotional toll. In China, there is often little empathy for disabilities, and I was terrified of losing my job. I kept my Parkinson’s a secret for 10 years. 

Even in Canada during my MBA, I told no one. My closest friends only knew that I took medication, but they didn’t know why. It wasn’t until I started working in the nonprofit sector that things changed. I was surrounded by people who were passionate about helping others, and I felt more comfortable sharing my personal experiences. That’s when I realized I needed to tell my story. 

During the pandemic, my symptoms progressed quickly due to less physical activity. My neck spasms became so severe that I couldn’t sit down, making simple tasks like reading, writing, eating, or even attending meetings exhausting. At my worst, I spent hours lying down, unable to function. 

The power of exercise and lifestyle changes 

That’s when I turned to exercise. At first, I started going to the gym, and soon I was there for four hours a day. The staff thought I worked there! Eventually, I discovered long-distance cycling, and it changed everything. My energy levels improved dramatically, and I felt stronger than ever. 

Soon I’ll be going back to school to study kinesiology and physical therapy, and I’m shadowing professionals in the field. I’m even being studied by doctors at Northwestern University because of how I’ve been able to rehab many of my symptoms through exercise and lifestyle changes. 

Joining a community of support 

Joining a support group was the single most life-changing decision I made. At first, I joined three groups—one for young-onset Parkinson’s, a women’s group, and an exercise-focused group. Over time, I stuck with the one that aligned most with my lifestyle, as it was filled with really active people, including the Rigid Riders, a Parkinson’s cycling group. 

We ride together, laugh together, and share our daily struggles and victories. The humor, optimism, and camaraderie within the Parkinson’s community are unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. 

Parkinson’s has given me more than it has taken 

I never thought I’d say this, but Parkinson’s has opened doors for me. I’ve met incredible people I never would have known otherwise. I’ve pushed myself beyond what I thought I was capable of—especially with cycling. In 2021, I started with 20 km rides, then pushed myself to 30 km, 40 km, and eventually 100 km. 

One moment that truly defined my confidence happened recently while shadowing a student in a clinic. We had a patient with a spinal cord injury who could only talk, breathe, and move her eyes. She was trying to move her finger, but every attempt triggered full-body spasms. The doctor was unable to stop them, and I recognized that helplessness—I had felt it myself during my worst Parkinson’s spasms. 

I sat beside her, held her hand, and guided her through deep breathing. Then we started singing together. Slowly, her spasms stopped. 

That moment reminded me that people with Parkinson’s have so much wisdom, resilience, and empathy. Our community understands what it means to struggle, to push forward, and to help one another in ways that no one else can. 

My advice to others facing Parkinson’s 

Don’t keep it inside. Reach out. Talk to others. Find a support network through your community or Parkinson Canada. 

For years, I hid my Parkinson’s, pretending everything was fine. I forced my body to suppress symptoms in public, only to collapse in exhaustion when I got home. I wish I had sought out support sooner. 

Now, I’m proud of who I am and what I’ve found since my diagnosis. I don’t mind standing out, and I don’t mind telling people I have Parkinson’s. I’ve found strength, purpose, and a community that lifts me up. I can’t wait to give back to that community as I start out on my new career.