Joshua Martinez
Featuring Joshua Martinez from
Bronx, New York
How long have you been living with lupus?
22 years
Describe the version of you that exists on the days no one can see what you’re carrying. What does s/he look like, feel like, carry? You might think about the thoughts you keep to yourself, what your body is experiencing, or what it takes just to get through the day.
On the days no one can see what I’m carrying, I am someone who quietly fights battles that don’t always show on the outside. I move through fatigue, joint pain, and constant discomfort with a strength that isn’t always visible, but is always present. I’ve learned how to show up with grace, even when my body feels heavy and my energy is low.
In those moments, I rely deeply on my faith, and trust in God, reminding myself that I am not alone in what I’m facing. Even when I feel like I don’t have the strength to keep going, I find it through perseverance, through faith, and through a mindset that refuses to let me be defeated.
I am resilient. I am determined. And even on my hardest days, I choose to carry hope, maintain my composure, and keep a smile not because it’s easy, but because it reflects the strength I’ve built within.
What is something you’ve had to grieve because of lupus that you’ve never actually said out loud? This could be anything—lost time, energy, relationships, your sense of normalcy, or parts of yourself you’re still redefining.
Something I’ve had to grieve, but rarely say it out loud, is I’ve had to grieve the unpredictability the moments I couldn’t show up the way I wanted to, the plans I had to cancel, and the parts of life that now require more from me than they used to. There’s a quiet loss in not always being able to rely on my body the way I once did.
But the hardest part to admit is grieving the sense of control I once had. Lupus has taught me that strength doesn’t always look like pushing through it often looks like adjusting, accepting, and continuing forward anyway.
Even in that grief, I’m learning to honor who I am now, not just who I used to be.
What do you wish people (your family, your coworkers, your doctors) around you understood about your invisible ? It could be about your limits, your needs, or what support really looks like for you
I wish they understood how unpredictable it can be. My energy, my pain levels, and my ability to function can change without warning, and that’s not something I can always control or push through. When I have to slow down, cancel plans, or ask for understanding, it’s not a lack of effort it’s me doing my best to manage something that isn’t always visible.
Tell me about a moment when you showed up fully—and no one knew what it cost you. Think of a specific moment—at work, at home, or with loved ones—where you pushed through more than people realized.
One moment that stands out was a family cookout on a really hot day. I showed up smiling, laughing, and being present with everyone, just like I always would. But what no one saw was how much the heat was affecting me, or how hard it is for me to tolerate the sun with lupus. My body was already feeling drained, and the longer I stayed outside, the more I could feel the fatigue and discomfort building. Still, I didn’t want to miss out on that time with my family, so I pushed through it quietly. I stayed engaged, made memories, and gave my full presence, even while my body was telling me to slow down
Have you ever felt dismissed, misunderstood, or unseen because of lupus? What did that moment teach you? Share as much or as little detail as you feel comfortable.
Yes, there have been moments where I’ve felt misunderstood not necessarily by my family, because they’ve always been supportive, especially my fiance and kids but by others who don’t fully understand what lupus looks like day to day. I really appreciate the people in my life who do understand who don’t question my experience.
What has lupus forced you to learn about yourself? This could be about your strength, your limits, your voice, or how you care for yourself.
Lupus has forced me to learn that I have lupus, lupus doesn’t have me. I never knew how strong I was until
being strong was my only option. It has taught me to love my self more than ever. I am a worrier!
What boundary have you had to draw that felt revolutionary? And how did it change your life? Boundaries can be big or small—resting, saying no, asking for help, or choosing yourself.
One boundary I’ve had to draw that felt truly life changing was learning to say no without guilt especially
when it comes to my energy and my health.
What are you unapologetically doing now to nourish yourself—body, spirit, mind—that medicine doesn’t prescribe? This might include rest, nature, spiritual practices, therapy, movement, or anything that helps you feel whole.
What I’m unapologetically doing now is listening to my body, That means giving myself permission to rest when I’m tired, slowing down when I need to, and no longer pushing past my limits. I’m also leaning into my faith taking time to pray, reflect, and stay connected to God in a way that keeps me grounded, especially on the harder days. That connection gives me strength that medicine alone can’t provide.
What does your power look like—not in spite of lupus, but because of who you’ve had to become? Power can be quiet—honoring your needs, advocating for yourself, or simply continuing.
My power shows in my mindset. I’ve had to train myself to stay positive, And most importantly, my power is in my faith. It’s in trusting God even when I don’t feel my strongest! Lupus didn’t take my power it reshaped it into something deeper, quieter, and unbreakable.
What are you most proud of in yourself right now? It doesn’t have to be big—sometimes the smallest wins mean the most.
What I’m most proud of right now is how far I’ve come, despite everything I’ve faced—from my childhood to where I am today. There were moments that could have held me back, but instead, they shaped me into someone stronger, more determined, and more self-aware. I’m especially proud of building myself up in my career as a nail tech. It takes confidence, consistency, and belief in your craft, and I’ve learned to trust in my talent and my growth.
Where do you find your strength on the days when things feel heavy? This could be people, practices, mindset, or something within you.
I find my strength in my kids and my fiancé. On the days when everything feels heavy and my body feels like it’s giving me more than I can handle, they remind me for what I keep going. My kids give me purpose they’re my motivation to push through even when I’m tired or in pain. And my fiancé gives me support, understanding, and reassurance that I don’t have to carry everything alone.
What does living a full life look like for you now—on your terms, not anyone else’s? This could show up in how you rest, set boundaries, move through your day, define success, or choose what truly matters to you. There’s no one way to answer this—just share what feels true for you.
A full life is being present with my kids, building a future with my fiancé, and appreciating the small, meaningful moments that make up my days. It’s not about doing everything—it’s about doing what matters most with intention and peace.
What is something you’ve chosen to still pursue, experience, or hold onto—even with lupus? This could be a dream, a lifestyle, a relationship, or simply a way of being.
Something I’ve chosen to still pursue, even with lupus, is my passion as a nail tech. Even on the days when my joints hurt and my body feels tired, I still push through because I love what I do.
Enhancing people’s beauty gives me purpose and fulfillment. It reminds me that I still have something valuable to offer, no matter what I’m dealing with physically.
It hasn’t always been easy, and I’ve had to learn my limits, but I refuse to let my condition take away something I truly love. If anything, it has made me more intentional, more appreciative, and more determined to keep going in my craft.
If you could say one thing to the person who just got their diagnosis—the one sitting alone in the car after the appointment—what would you say? Speak to that person however you needed someone to speak to you.
You are going to be okay, even if it doesn’t feel like it today. Take it one day at a time, and give yourself grace as you learn and adjust. Don’t let lupus take your hope or your spirit. You’re a worrier! You are stronger than you realize, and you’re not alone in this journey
What does support look like for you—and how can your community show up better for you? This could include friends, family, workplaces, or healthcare providers.
Support for me looks like patience on the days when my energy is low or I have to cancel plans last minute without feeling judged or guilty. It also looks like encouragement, especially when I’m pushing through work or life with pain that others can’t see.
What is something you want to say to the person who has supported you through your lupus journey—but may not say often enough? This could be gratitude, acknowledgment, or something you’ve been holding in.
I love you, i appreciate you!