Seen at Last: How Love Is Blind Gave Madison a Platform for RP

 

The irony is not lost on Madison Maidenberg.

When the Castle Rock, Colorado native joined the cast of Love Is Blind Season 9, she became the first contestant living with a blinding disease. By sharing her story with millions worldwide, she brought visibility to retinitis pigmentosa, a condition many had never heard of, and challenged long-held misconceptions about what it means to be blind. In doing so, she became an unexpected yet powerful voice for the blind and low vision community.

"I wouldn't say Love Is Blind used it as a headline," says Madison. "I would say it was my why. And it just so happened that it became a headline because wow, there's actually a blind person on Love Is Blind."

The show's premise, strangers falling in love without ever seeing each other, gave her story a resonance that no producer could have scripted. But long before the cameras, before the conversations, and before the advocacy, Madison was quietly navigating a world she couldn’t fully see.

From around age 13, Madison saw what she described as "TV static" layered over her vision, a constant filter she couldn't explain or turn off. Her eye doctor reassured her that everything seemed normal, and it was likely ocular migraines. But the disconnect between what she was experiencing and what others seemed to see became harder to ignore. She missed steps in dim lighting, ran into objects, and occasionally found herself in confusing and sometimes embarrassing situations.

On her 20th birthday, she fell down a set of stairs at a club before she’d even had a drink. Security assumed she was intoxicated and asked her to leave.

“That kind of thing happened more than once,” says Madison. “I started realizing people were seeing things that I wasn’t.”

At 21, after switching eye doctors, Madison finally got an answer. A new doctor noticed specks on her retinal scan and referred her to a specialist. Colorado Retina gave her the diagnosis of retinitis pigmentosa (RP), but it didn’t fully sink in at first.

“It was like I dissociated,” Madison recalls. “In my mind, it wasn't happening to me. I was listening to the doctor say this is a blinding disease, that I'm going to lose my vision, but it didn’t feel real.”

For months, she lived in a state of shock and denial. She told her family and close friends but avoided talking about it beyond that. Asking for help felt like admitting she was different, and at the time, that was something she wasn’t ready to accept.

“I honestly didn’t want to stand out,” says Madison. “I didn’t want to be seen differently.”

Today, Madison describes her vision as looking through a narrowing pair of binoculars, layered with that same “TV static.” In low light, those binoculars close in further. She might be looking directly at your face and completely miss your outstretched hand.

“I can't tell you how many times I've heard 'don't leave me hanging,'” says Madison. “I come off as socially rude because someone tries to shake my hand and I just don't see it, and I have to explain, give me an audio cue, touch my arm, let me know you're there.”

While Madison navigates challenges in low light and peripheral vision, she is still able to drive and maintain her independence—something she values deeply.

“Something people need to understand is that blindness is a spectrum,” says Madison. “I know people with RP who are younger than me who have never driven. I know people older than me who can still see perfectly. My RP is going to be different from his RP, from her RP—it's so different, all in between.”

Driving represents more than convenience to Madison—it represents freedom. While she’s adapted her habits, limiting night driving and relying heavily on navigation apps, she remains committed to maintaining her independence for as long as possible.

“I will fight, claw, and scratch to maintain my independence, my freedom, who I am," says Madison.

For years, Madison navigated RP largely on her own. No one else in her family had the condition, and she didn’t know anyone in the blind or low vision community. That changed when she found the Foundation Fighting Blindness.

Reaching out to her local Colorado chapter was a turning point. For the first time, she connected with someone who truly understood. A conversation with another woman living with RP turned into hours of shared stories about the small, everyday moments that only someone with vision loss could relate to.

“It was the first time I felt understood,” says Madison. “Finding that community within the Foundation was so pivotal. It made me feel hopeful that I could live a full life with this diagnosis.”

That sense of connection sparked something bigger. When the opportunity to join Love Is Blind came, Madison didn’t initially plan to center her diagnosis in her story. She had always been intentional about not letting RP define her. But once she chose to share it on camera with hosts Nick and Vanessa Lachey and millions watching, something shifted.

“It was the first time I really stood in my truth,” says Madison.

The response was immediate and deeply personal. Messages poured in from people who saw themselves or their loved ones in her story. Parents reached out to share videos of children newly diagnosed with RP who felt seen for the first time.

“That’s when I realized there was a silver lining,” says Madison. “Doing the show and talking about my eye disease so freely blew open the door to normalize these conditions. It opened the floor for conversation and to show people this isn't just a hopeless diagnosis.”

For Madison, Love Is Blind didn't create her advocacy—it amplified it, giving work she was already doing a global stage.

Now Madison is President of the Foundation Fighting Blindness Colorado Chapter, a Brand Ambassador for the Foundation, and serves as auction chair for its largest annual golf fundraiser, Scramble for Sight. It's work that's deeply personal—the Foundation is actively advancing research toward treatments and cures for retinitis pigmentosa and other blinding diseases, a mission that hits close to home. She speaks openly about accessibility, the day-to-day realities of vision loss, and the full spectrum of what blindness actually looks like.

“I feel like I can be a voice for more than just me," says Madison. “If sharing my story helps someone else feel less alone, it’s worth it.”

She’s also helping shift the narrative—showing that blindness doesn’t mean the end of independence, ambition, or identity. It simply looks different.

And having once felt alone on her own vision loss journey, Madison is passionate about reaching those newly diagnosed.

“Do not let this define you,” says Madison. “Use your voice. Tell your story. The more you accept yourself, the more the world will too.”

From falling down stairs and picking herself back up, to advocating on a global stage, Madison is proving that vision loss does not mean losing sight of who you are, or what you're capable of achieving.