I have a memory from when I was very little… I was waiting in a doctor’s office at the hospital for a check up. I remember seeing a glossy magazine cover in the waiting room with bold red letters on a black background predicting a cure for hemophilia by the year 2000. I’d be eighteen in 2000. By the time I’m an adult, I thought, I’d be cured. This whole hemophilia thing would just be something from my childhood. Fortunately I never put a lot of hope into that prediction. It wasn’t many years later that I had my first ankle surgery. Then an elbow surgery. At some point I realized the cure wasn’t as important as minimizing bleeding and mitigating long-term damage. Unfortunately the damage was done, mostly confined to my target joints: ankles and elbows. Advancements in treatment prevent most bleeds these days, but I deal with chronic pain like many with severe hemophilia. That’s been a challenge; it affects a lot of my everyday activities and puts a damper on mood and motivation. It impacts my mental health in ways I’m still learning to manage. The biggest challenge I face today is acknowledging my limitations as a parent. My kids accept that I can’t push them on the swings or chase them around the playground, but I struggle to accept it. It hurts knowing I can only describe how to throw a football instead of showing them. I feel jealous watching other dads play soccer with their kids and depressed by my limited ability to participate. These realizations were a long time coming and are still difficult to express. I should have joined the bleeding disorder community sooner, where I know I can find support. Now I’m learning to ask for help. I’m receiving encouragement from my community that I can work within my limitations and it’s helping me reset my expectations and embrace my abilities. My story isn’t unique and there are many others living with similar challenges. To me, it’s no longer about funding a long-promised cure. It’s about improving quality of life for those living with bleeding disorders and reducing the impact to the youngest generation learning how to cope. Please give what you can to support the National Bleeding Disorder Foundation and their important programs and research. Your support provides the resources and care families like mine need to build fuller, more resilient lives.