Posts by Fibromyalgia Support Network

by Irene Roth/Blog Editor

One of the most difficult emotional aspects of fibromyalgia is the realization that your life has changed. You may remember a version of yourself who could do more, plan more, and push through exhaustion without consequences. You may remember moving through your days with confidence, assuming your body would cooperate with your plans. That version of you may feel distant now, like a memory from another lifetime—someone you recognize, but no longer fully inhabit.

Letting go of that former version of yourself can feel like grief.

Grief does not only arise when we lose people; it also arises when we lose parts of ourselves. You may grieve your former energy, your independence, your spontaneity, or your sense of control. You may grieve the ease with which you once lived your life. This grief can come in waves—sometimes quietly, sometimes unexpectedly. It is important to honor these feelings rather than suppress them. They are part of the process of healing and adjustment.

You may miss your old energy, your old routines, and the sense of predictability you once had. You may miss the freedom of saying yes without hesitation or the confidence of knowing you could follow through on any plan. It is natural to long for what was familiar. But holding on too tightly to who you used to be can make it harder to accept who you are becoming.

Letting go is not about giving up. It is about making space.

It is about making space for acceptance, for growth, and for a new relationship with yourself. Letting go does not mean forgetting who you were. It means carrying forward the parts of yourself that still serve you while releasing expectations that cause harm or suffering.

It is important to understand that while your abilities may have changed, your essence has not. You are still the same person with the same values, dreams, and inner life. Your kindness, your wisdom, your sense of humor, and your love for others remain intact. What fibromyalgia changes is not your worth, but your pace. It asks you to live differently, but it does not diminish who you are.

This shift invites you to redefine your relationship with yourself. Instead of pushing your body beyond its limits, you learn to listen to it. Instead of criticizing yourself for what you cannot do, you learn to honor what you can do. Instead of measuring yourself against an outdated version of yourself, you begin to meet yourself where you are.

This process requires self-compassion.

Self-compassion means treating yourself with the same kindness and understanding that you would offer someone you love. It means recognizing that you are doing your best under difficult circumstances. It means allowing yourself to rest without guilt and to move through life at a pace that supports your well-being.

You may need to release unrealistic expectations that no longer serve you. You may need to stop comparing your current self to your past self. Comparison often creates unnecessary suffering because it focuses on loss rather than growth. Your life has not ended—it has changed. And within that change, new possibilities exist.

Letting go also allows you to discover new strengths. You may become more patient, more mindful, and more attuned to your needs. You may develop a deeper appreciation for small moments of peace and joy—a warm cup of tea, a quiet morning, a meaningful conversation. You may learn to value presence over productivity.

You are not losing yourself—you are rediscovering yourself.

You are discovering a version of yourself that is more self-aware, more compassionate, and more resilient. You are learning to live in alignment with your body rather than in opposition to it.

Your identity is not tied to how much you accomplish in a day. It is rooted in your character, your values, and your capacity to adapt. It is rooted in your courage to continue forward, even when the path looks different than you expected.

Letting go of the old you is not an ending. It is a transition into a new way of living—one that honors your humanity, your limits, and your resilience. It is an invitation to live more gently, more intentionally, and more truthfully.

You are still you. And that is enough.

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by Alvine Nkamtchoum, Guest Blogger

Identity! What is my identity?

A daughter? Friend? Sister? Aunt? Mom?

What exactly is my identity?

I used to think my identity was simply woven into the different things that made me ‘ME’ including my race, status, job.  

When life went up-side-down, of course it was easy for me to question what I thought was my identity because of the different things I had tied it to. 

I questioned my value and worth as a young person whom according to our society’s standards and expectations was supposed to be more productive. Added to the fact that as an immigrant who abandoned her life and loved ones and moved to a far-away country in search of a better life, was actually living more or less like a lazy beggar. 

I questioned my role as a provider or maybe a supporter would be a better choice of word here because I had to stop working. 

I questioned my whole existence and why I was even still breathing. 

Of course i questioned it all. But, was my identity truly tied to all these? (Thinking face emoji)

Well, that’s what happens when we place our value, worth and even identity on things and people, other than Christ. 

Prior to Spring of the year 2021, I attached my identity to everything but God. Well don’t blame me—I did not know any better. Now it all makes sense why loosing all these things made me feel like life wasn’t worth living again. 

The countless fights with God—like I even stood a chance. (Laughing emoji) 

The hundreds of questions in a minute like God owed me any answers or explanations. 

The screaming at the top of my voice like it’s no man’s business. Guess who was getting more headaches from these screams. ME! 

The frustrations from not being able to get up and go out like everyone else. Not to mention the mere thought of watching my life go from young and active to differently abled. (Trying not to use the word ‘disabled’ here). 

I cried! God knows I cried!

And when I had had enough of fighting with myself (obviously I could not fight God), I humbled myself, surrendered to God’s will and sought His face. Gradually, I found my real identity—in Christ. 

It all started with a book I received as a gift from a sweet older lady friend; “Where is God When it Hurts” by Philip Yancey, then moved to more and more desire to go closer to God. Gradually, my perspective shifted and gave me an opportunity to see life from a whole new angle. 

My identity was never tied to neither those things nor people as I thought it was. No! My identity is in Christ and this is how I choose to live from here on. 

So what if my health is struggling?

So what if I am not as able-bodied or productive as my peers?

So what if I don’t earn money like I used to or support my loved ones like I love to?

So what if I am a Christian and still have to share my body with an infirmity?

Does any of these change who I truly am? Of course not! Because my identity was never tied to anything I do or not do. My value as God knows it doesn’t reduce based on what people think of me (not even what I think of myself). My true identity is in Christ and this is something Chronic Pain will never be able to take away from me. 

ABOUT THE AUTHOR: After a long struggle adjusting to her new reality of living with chronic pain as a young adult, Alvine eventually realized that the very first step toward finding peace—and perhaps even a long-lasting way to live well—was acceptance. When that realization came, she made a conscious decision not to shrink from life or give in to despair. Instead, she chose to adjust, adapt, learn, and grow. She also hoped that by sharing her journey and remaining engaged with others, she might one day become a source of hope for someone facing a similar situation.

Through her interest in volunteering for studies, surveys, and interviews related to chronic pain, Alvine discovered several organizations that support people living with pain, including Pain BC, Pain Canada, the Power Over Pain Portal, and the Chronic Pain Network. These connections opened doors for her to become actively involved in advocacy and peer support within the chronic pain community.

Today, Alvine is proud to contribute in several meaningful roles. She serves as a member of the Lived Experience Advisory Committee (LEAC) with the Power Over Pain Network, volunteers as a peer support facilitator with the People in Pain Network, and participates as a member of the Steering Committee for Pain Canada’s Putting the Pieces Together (PTPT) Conference. In addition, she sits on the Chronic Pain Network’s Training and Capacity Building Committee, helping to strengthen resources and support for others navigating life with chronic pain.

While pain may now be a part of her reality, Alvine is determined that it will never define the entirety of who she is. Her journey reflects resilience, advocacy, and a deep commitment to helping others see that hope and purpose can still flourish, even in the presence of chronic pain.

by Irene Roth/Blog Editor

A fibromyalgia diagnosis doesn’t just affect your physical health—it can reshape your sense of identity. Before diagnosis, you likely saw yourself in certain ways: capable, dependable, productive, and able to meet the demands of daily life. You may have taken pride in your ability to care for others, complete tasks efficiently, and follow through on commitments. Your sense of self may have been closely tied to your roles—parent, partner, professional, caregiver, friend, or community member. Then fibromyalgia enters your life, and suddenly, the things you once did without thinking require careful planning—or may no longer be possible at all.

This shift can create a profound sense of loss. You may wonder, “Who am I now?” When pain and fatigue disrupt your routines, it can feel like parts of your identity have been taken away. You may feel less confident, less capable, or even less valuable. You may struggle with feelings of frustration, grief, or confusion as you try to reconcile your former self with your current reality. These feelings are not a sign of weakness—they are a natural and deeply human response to a life-altering condition.

But here is an important truth: fibromyalgia does not erase who you are. It reveals new dimensions of yourself that may have been hidden beneath a life of constant doing. When you can no longer rely solely on productivity to define yourself, you begin to discover the deeper qualities that have always existed within you.

You are still the same person with the same heart, values, and inner strength. Your compassion, creativity, intelligence, and wisdom remain intact. In fact, many fibromates discover that living with chronic illness deepens their empathy for others and strengthens their emotional resilience. You may become more patient, more self-aware, and more attuned to what truly matters. You may begin to appreciate quiet moments, meaningful connections, and small victories in ways you never did before.

Reclaiming your identity does not mean pretending fibromyalgia doesn’t exist. It means integrating your experience into your life story without allowing it to define your worth. You are not “less than” because you need rest. You are not “weaker” because your body has limits. You are adapting to a new reality, and adaptation requires tremendous courage and strength. Every time you listen to your body, honor your needs, and continue forward despite uncertainty, you are demonstrating resilience.

This process often involves redefining how you see yourself. Instead of measuring your identity solely by productivity, you can begin to recognize other qualities that define you—your perseverance, your self-awareness, your emotional depth, and your ability to keep going even when life feels uncertain. You begin to understand that your worth is inherent, not earned through constant activity.

Reclaiming your identity also means giving yourself permission to grow. Chronic illness often forces you to slow down, and in that slowing down, you may discover parts of yourself that were previously overlooked. You may develop new interests, such as journaling, creative expression, meditation, or advocacy. You may discover a deeper inner life and a stronger connection to yourself. You may also find new purpose in supporting others who are walking a similar path.

You are not the same person you were before fibromyalgia—but you are not lost. You are evolving into a version of yourself that is wiser, more compassionate, and more resilient.

Your identity is not defined by what you can do on your most difficult days. It is defined by your willingness to continue living, adapting, and finding meaning in your experience. It is defined by your courage to show up for your life, even when the path looks different than you expected.

Fibromyalgia is part of your story, but it is not the whole story. You are still you—and you are still whole.