Three years ago I spent most of today in a fog, crying as I struggled to make sense of an ALS diagnosis and the possibility of dying at 37.

Today, I will jump on calls about speeding treatments, clip into a Peloton, and play with my amazing daughters.

Today, I have an ask. /1

Today, I am physically weaker in every respect—muscles, voice, etc. But in so many ways, most unexpected, I am stronger than I was 3 years ago.

Now, I didn’t want this strength nor this fight, but they are mine and I am both stubborn and don’t like to lose. /2

As I have physically grown weaker my voice has grown louder. This account has become my microphone. A place to shout about the real, tangible hope we have for ending ALS and the beauty/pain of life inherent in our fight.

You did this. You gave me the courage to speak out. /3

You wrapped me in love, picked me up when I got down, drove me to fight harder. You got others to pay attention to my rambling threads, to feel the hope and possibility, to be a part of this movement.

You are changing the ALS story. So that’s why I have an ask of you today. /4

My hope for today, short of treatments and cures, is to look tonight and see that we have crossed 50,000 souls joined together in this journey to rewrite the ALS story.

So what do you say: you up for building a movement and making the impossible real, together? /5