Let me tell you about the best gift I ever received. And it’s not a piece of Yurman jewelry, or a new pair of Stewies, or even a term of endearment.
I’m talking about my memory.
When I was 25, I had a pretty severe seizure without any warning. Soon after, I was heavily dosed on medication to prevent me from having another, and in the process it prevented me from doing much of anything. Every time I would go to the doctor for a follow up visit I would explain my side effects from the medication (dizziness, drowsiness, confusion, coordination problems). I’d struggle to put my thoughts in complete sentences without getting confused or forgetting what I wanted to say. My Neurologist reminded me that much of the time they never find out what causes seizures and that sometimes the benefits of medication outweigh the cons. Which… ya know, wasn’t especially encouraging.
Word got around quickly about what happened and people reacted in a variety of different ways. Some wanted to know I was okay, while others assumed I was brain damaged. In the beginning, I didn’t know the answer to either.
See… what I went through at that point wasn’t just a grand mal seizure, but an enormous amount of stress over what role (if any) they would play in the rest of my life. Immediately following, my memory from one day to the next was gone. I didn’t realize this of course, but my family would tell me about conversations I’d repeat. In addition to memory loss, the medication made me foggy and confused. The worst experience was one day while speaking at an event, my speech started slurring and I had no way to control it. I was absolutely mortified, specifically because I have always been a strong speaker and comfortable in front of large crowds. After that, I began to pressure myself to work longer hours so no one would know anything was different, all the while in fear that I could have another seizure. After my speech slurred (which, by the way was a side effect of the medication and not the seizure), I began to isolate because I felt it was too hard to hide both the effects of the seizure and the side effects of the medication.
It was a long journey to finding the right solution and ultimately regaining my self-confidence. Long story short, things got worse before they got better. Two years after my first seizure I had another while I was driving and was in a three-car accident (thankfully, everyone was fine). Determined to find the cause, I met with a new team of Neurologists and Epileptologists, and spent a week in the hospital with wires glued to my head (which… you can imagine, was a real treat.) But it worked. I was able to start a medication that didn’t make me feel like I was losing my mind, and was finally able to continue living a normal life without having to feel constant anxiety and stress. It goes without saying that everything I went through changed my life. Looking back, here’s what I learned:
1. Beauty is fleeting. Thank God for that.
My experiences helped me (narrowly) escape from being just another workaholic who put too much thought into others’ opinions. Not to mention, I was spared from the cycle of depression that consumes many women in life. I was proactive about my health and did everything in my power to get the best treatment, even if it meant second opinions. My conclusion: how people perceive you is largely based on how you present yourself.
2. People can be hurtful. That’s their problem.
One of my friend’s has a daughter who is severely epileptic and at a young age suffered brain damage, leaving her with the approximate mental capacity of a 2 year old for the rest of her life. My friend didn’t move her daughter to assisted living to be cared for by strangers because of this. She gave her anything she wanted, knowing there were so many things in life she would never be able to have. She dedicated 100% of her life to her daughter, for reasons I only started to appreciate years later. Temporarily losing my memory gave me, for a brief time, a very small taste of what my friend’s daughter encounters every day of her life. I pity people who equate someone’s circumstances with their value as a person. This in general applies to people judging you for anything at all. In the end, you come to find that the most vocal critics are often the most insecure.
3. Other people have things you don’t. Big deal.
There is no such thing as being the most beautiful person in the world (sorry Belles). Besides, who cares? If there were, it would only last long enough for the next pretty thing to walk through the door. What is considered desirable is not necessarily worth getting hung up on. You may never be a five-foot-ten Victoria’s Secret Model with legs up to your neck – but for all you know, that same model would give her left arm to have your hair. This same idea applies to wealth, success, talent, and intelligence as well. Envying someone else is a zero-sum game, and uses far too much time and energy. Use that energy expanding your knowledge on something you find interesting.
4. Confidence doesn’t come overnight.
It also doesn’t happen in a salon or a department store; it requires learning to love and accept yourself for who you are. As with anything else worth having, it’s a lot work. But let me tell you, it’s totally worth the effort. Confidence happens when you let it happen. No one can give it to you, which is great, because it also means they can’t take it away.
5. When someone says I am beautiful, they really mean it.
There is something about knowing someone sees you, flaws and all, and likes what they see… something rare and kind of overwhelming. ‘Beautiful’ is one of those words that has lost meaning in being overused as a generic affirmative. However, beauty really does come in many forms and I constantly push myself to grow intellectually as much as possible so I’m not relying on anything that will only fade over time. I’m happy to be different enough that anyone who uses it to describe me sees more than just hair and makeup.
6. Attitude is everything.
In the end, life is hard for everyone… it’s how you choose to face adversity that really matters.
