Finding strength through art: Living and creating with myasthenia gravis

Written by Sophie Groenstein |

Basically a long headshot of a smiling woman standing against a white wall.

Sophie Groenstein says that the focus, creativity, and freedom of making art allow her to escape the stress that MG can bring. (Photos courtesy of Sophie Groenstein)

In recognition of Myasthenia Gravis Awareness Month in June, the MG Awareness Month campaign features a series of stories highlighting the real-life experiences of people affected by MG, written in their own words. Follow us on FacebookInstagram, or X for more stories like this, using the hashtag #MGAwarenessMonth, or read the full series.

In April 2025, I was diagnosed with generalized myasthenia gravis (MG) during a trip to the emergency room at UConn Health after experiencing my first MG crisis. At the time, I had no idea what was happening to my body. I didn’t even know how to pronounce the name of the condition, let alone understand what it meant for my life. I spent five days in the ICU fighting for my life. When I was finally discharged, everything changed, but in many ways, it changed for the better.

Looking back, the signs had been there for years.

A woman in a cowboy hat smiles on a hot, sunny day (she's sweating) whil standing against a freshly painted wall and behind a step ladder.

Groenstein paints “Greetings from Mystic,”  a postcard-style mural in downtown Mystic, Connecticut, in July 2025.

For a long time before my diagnosis, I struggled with unexplained weakness in my body. Simple things like lifting my arms to brush my hair could feel exhausting. Walking short distances became difficult, and my muscles often felt unbearably heavy. There were times when my legs would suddenly give out beneath me, and I’d fall to the floor, unable to pick myself up. My body felt so heavy that I sometimes needed someone to physically lift me onto my feet.

It was frightening and confusing, and the more it happened, the more afraid I became of leaving the house. I slowly started withdrawing from social situations and became somewhat of a hermit, preferring to stay home where I felt safer. It was hard to know when I was pushing myself too hard or when I wasn’t doing enough.

For nearly five years, I experienced symptoms without a clear diagnosis. Many doctor appointments left me feeling dismissed. Over time, I began losing confidence in my own body and questioning why it seemed to reject the things I wanted to do.

The MG crisis that led to my diagnosis brought symptoms that were impossible to ignore. What I once thought was anxiety was actually something much more serious. When I caught even a common cold, breathing became difficult. Swallowing felt challenging, and I struggled to control my facial muscles, including my eyes and mouth.

When doctors finally diagnosed me, everything suddenly made sense. For the first time, I had answers to years of uncertainty. 

A mural that takes up the side of a building shows bright orange, red, blue, and white colors depicting two women standing back to back, eyes closed, and looking up to a blue sky with white, puffy clouds and large monarch butterflies.

Groenstein created this mural called “Together We Bloom” in collaboration with a local artist from Connecticut in August 2024. (Courtesy of Sophie Groenstein)

My career as a mural artist makes this journey especially unique because my work is incredibly physical. Painting murals is my full-time job and often requires 12-hour workdays, climbing lifts, standing for long periods, and using my entire body to create large-scale artwork. Before my diagnosis, I was building my business while unknowingly living with MG, sometimes painting high above the ground while my legs felt unstable.

Despite these challenges, art has always been my safe space. When I’m drawing or painting, I become completely immersed in the process. The focus, creativity, and freedom of making art allow me to escape the stress MG can bring.

Today, my life looks very different. I move my body often and go to the gym to slowly rebuild my strength. Tasks that once felt impossible are now things I can do again. I’ve learned to listen to my body, but I’ve also learned how resilient it can be.

My artwork reflects that journey. My murals and paintings are full of vibrant color and energy. I often paint portraits of women who appear confident, powerful, and strong. Looking back, I sometimes wonder if I was subconsciously painting the version of myself I hoped to become.

Hard things in our lives shape who we are. Living with MG has challenged me in ways I never expected, but it has also helped me grow into the person I always dreamed of becoming: someone stronger, more compassionate, and more determined than ever.