June is Scoliosis Awareness Month
As someone diagnosed with scoliosis as a child who spent years wearing a Milwaukee brace, this month holds deep personal meaning for me.
My journey was not always easy. There were challenges, setbacks, and moments of uncertainty. Yet those experiences taught me resilience, strength, and the importance of never giving up.
Today, I am honored to serve as an ambassador for Setting Scoliosis Straight and to help raise awareness about a condition that affects millions of children and adults around the world. Through advocacy, education, and sharing my own experience, I hope to encourage others facing similar challenges and remind them that they are never alone.
If you or someone you love is living with scoliosis, please know that you are not alone. Early detection, education, support, and ongoing research can make a significant difference. Most importantly, scoliosis does not define who you are or limit what you can achieve.
I have lived a full and active life, pursuing my passions, raising a family, and overcoming challenges that many once believed would not be possible. My story is proof that a diagnosis does not determine your future.
This month, let us continue to raise awareness, support those affected by scoliosis, and advocate for better treatments and outcomes for future generations.
Together, we can make a difference.
Stronger Than the Curve.
— Diana Kayla Hochberg
Ambassador, Setting Scoliosis Straight
The Brace That Shaped More Than My Spine
June is Scoliosis Awareness Month. This was part of my journey.
People often ask me about my scoliosis. They see the woman I became, not the teenager I once was.
The teenager I remember wore a Milwaukee brace.
Looking at a brace like this today, I can almost feel it again. The hard leather around my hips. The metal uprights running the length of my torso. The neck ring that seemed impossible to ignore. Every movement reminded me it was there. Every glance in the mirror reminded me I was different.
As a teenager, I did not see courage when I looked at that brace. I saw something I wished I did not have to wear.
For three and a half years, I wore it twenty-three hours a day, removing it for only one hour. I worried about what other people thought. I worried about standing out when all I wanted was to fit in. Like most teenagers, I wanted to be invisible in a crowd, not defined by a piece of medical equipment.
What I could not see then was what the brace was teaching me.
It taught me discipline. It taught me patience. It taught me resilience long before I truly understood the meaning of the word. It taught me how to keep moving forward when circumstances were difficult and unfair.
The brace made me stronger, but it never hardened me. If anything, it made me more aware of the struggles other people carry. It taught me empathy. It taught me that everyone is fighting a battle we may know nothing about.
The Milwaukee brace shaped more than my spine.
It shaped my character.
Years later, I can look at a photograph like this and feel gratitude instead of embarrassment. The brace was not easy. It was not comfortable. It was not something any teenager would choose.
But it was part of my journey.
The metal, leather, and straps are long gone. The lessons remain.
When I see a Milwaukee brace today, I do not see weakness. I do not see limitation. I do not see the girl who felt different.
I see a young girl who faced challenges she never asked for and kept moving forward anyway.
I see courage.
I see resilience.
I see determination.
Most of all, I see a girl who never gave up.
And after all these years, I am proud of her.