Changing careers was the right choice for me and my MS

I was 20 years old when I first heard the words multiple sclerosis.

It wasn’t something I saw coming. I had been recovering from what I thought was a simple swimming injury when an MRI of my neck revealed lesions. That set off a whirlwind of appointments, spinal taps, and more scans, which ended with a neurologist saying, “You have MS.”

I was in college at the time, still figuring out adulthood. Suddenly, my reality included daily injections, unpredictable symptoms and a lot of uncertainty about the future. I was told that everyone’s MS is different and there was no way to predict how mine would progress.

My family and friends helped me navigate through finding my way, because often, I felt like giving up. My father was going through cancer treatment at the time, and he used many of his mantras to help me learn about perseverance and grit, including “Show up, never give up.”

Struggling to keep up at work

In those early years, I pushed myself to live as if nothing had changed. I became an elementary school teacher, pouring my energy into my students. But teaching is physically demanding in ways most people don’t realize. There’s constant movement, standing for hours and managing a bustling classroom. Gradually, I realized that MS fatigue and mobility issues were making it harder for me to keep up.

At first, I kept my diagnosis to myself at work. I didn’t want to be treated differently or to be seen as less capable. But hiding it was exhausting. I spent so much energy pretending to feel fine that I had little left for my actual job or personal life. Eventually, the physical toll became too much, and I made the incredibly difficult decision to leave teaching.

Looking back, that decision changed my life for the better.

As I tried to figure out what was next, I asked myself: Why did I go into teaching? To help others.

Starting a new career

In 2012, I took a job at Iron Mountain, a global enterprise information management company that serves as a guardian of clients’ physical and digital assets. That means they manage everything from sensitive documents and cultural artifacts to data centers. At its core, Iron Mountain is about protecting trust, which created an environment where I could realign my work with my “why.”

To be honest, I initially viewed the job as temporary — a stepping stone. Plus, a close friend from college who supported me through my MS diagnosis was already working at the company. It was comforting to step into a new environment with a familiar face by my side.

I accepted the role, knowing that what I truly needed was a desk job that could support my health. But I poured myself into the work and, within a year, I was promoted. The work was still challenging and fulfilling, but it was more adaptable to what I needed physically. That alone improved my quality of life enormously.

Perhaps the most transformative change in my career came when I was forced to disclose my MS. One morning, I woke up completely paralyzed on my entire left side. After a struggle to unlock the door, my dad was able to get me to the hospital. The only treatment for this was high doses of steroids. In time, I’d see if I would walk again.

There was no hiding it anymore: I had to take leave from work to recover.

Disclosing my MS at work

I was terrified to share my diagnosis. Would people see me differently? Would they assume I couldn’t handle my role? But the opposite actually happened. My colleagues responded with genuine empathy, and my leaders didn’t just ask how they could support me — they showed me.

While I was out on leave, Iron Mountain teamed up with me to participate in the MS MudRun 5K I had signed up for before my flare-up. Seeing my coworkers rally around me, not just with words but with action, was deeply moving.

That moment was more than just a race. It was a powerful affirmation and it showed me I didn’t have to hide my MS. It gave me the courage to be open about my journey and it reshaped how I saw my role in the workplace and beyond. I realized that telling my story didn’t make me weaker — it made me stronger. It opened doors to understanding, connection and advocacy. It gave me the confidence to not only speak up for my own needs, but also to stand up for others navigating their own invisible battles.

Accommodations make me a better worker

What made the biggest difference was learning that I could ask for and receive accommodations without shame. For me, that has included flexible scheduling, the option to work remotely when needed and understanding from leadership when fatigue or flare-ups hit. Those adjustments do not make me less productive. They actually make me more productive, because I can do my best work without pushing myself to the point of burnout.

There’s a misconception that accommodations are special treatment. The truth is, they’re simply tools that level the playing field. For me, they’ve been the difference between surviving at work and thriving in my career. They’ve allowed me to continue growing professionally while still having the energy for my life outside of work.

Advocating for others

Today, I’m the chair of the Capable Employee Resource Group (ERG) at Iron Mountain, which supports employees of all abilities. Through this role, I’ve been able to help normalize conversations about disability and chronic illness, encourage others to request accommodations they need, and show that thriving at work is possible with the right support. In 2025, Iron Mountain earned a top score on the Disability Equality Index and was recognized as a Best Place to Work for Disability Inclusion, which reflects its deep commitment to inclusion and accessibility.

I’m deeply grateful to Dan Rattner, a longtime friend and mentor, for his guidance throughout my journey at Iron Mountain and for connecting me with the NMSS to share my story. His leadership and support, both as an executive sponsor in Capable and as someone living with MS, continue to inspire me.

I often think about how different things might have been if I had stayed in teaching and kept my MS a secret. I would have been pushing through pain and exhaustion every day, likely at the expense of my health and happiness. Instead, changing careers, learning to speak openly about my MS and embracing accommodations set me on a path toward balance, fulfillment and purpose.