Matt Lafleur,  —

Matthew's life doesn’t look like what he imagined when he was an active Cajun boy. Once diagnosed at age 11 with Friedreich’s ataxia, he threw himself into books, writing, and studies, achieving a bachelor’s degree in English and a master’s degree in mental health counseling. Writing a column at Friedreich’s Ataxia News and serving as the associate director of columns for its parent company BioNews is a perfect combination of his two degrees. He notes life’s small, often overlooked successes in his column. In progressive disability, Matt tries to notice his little victories, hoping that others notice their own ... or something like that.

Articles by Matthew Lafleur

Betting on Dark Horses

I always try to bet on dark horses. On quiet summer nights near my house, I can hear the buzzer of the nearby racetrack signaling the start and finish of horse races. I swear sometimes I can even hear the gates clanging open, and the rapid-fire…

I’m Learning to See Myself as an Ataxia Warrior

I’ve never thought of myself as especially strong, or as someone who could identify with a warrior’s personality. Because I face the progressively debilitating disorder Friedreich’s ataxia, I sadly realized that my physical strength, like the rest of my capabilities, will dwindle over time much more quickly than…

How Thinking Differently Saves My Life

One and one always equals two, at least that’s how most people see it. Sometimes simple, concrete facts are comforting, especially for people diagnosed with progressive diseases, where we can’t trust our own abilities day-to-day. But I believe my ability to thrive depends on being able to see the world…

Finding Comfort in a New Normal

“You need to go easier on yourself,” my friend told me. I was busy berating myself for having a bad week when my symptoms of Friedreich’s ataxia (FA) seemed to spike all at once. I did stop blaming myself, as my friend suggested. Instead, I thought…

Crawling Toward Fitness as My Abilities Change

My arms couldn’t hold my body up in a crawling position any longer, so I face-planted on the matted floor in defeat, yet with a small, self-satisfied smile. As I lay collapsed on my stomach, my physical therapist towered above me and yelled triumphantly, “You just crawled across…