Every now and then it seems like life throws something unexpected my way that I don’t feel strong enough to deal with… you know, that makes me want to hide under the covers and avoid facing reality. I always do my best to be self reliant and strong willed, but from time to time, I’m guilty of getting overwhelmed. This is usually accompanied by what every Belle refers to as “the ugly cry”, something we’d all prefer to do in private. Yesterday, however… I was in the Philadelphia Airport. Needless to say, it was the LAST place I wanted to be. Initially I tried to retreat to the women’s restroom, but quickly aborted when I walked into a crowded room of women and crying children. Eventually, I found an empty bench and unleashed the waterworks, hoping anyone passing would assume I was on my way to a funeral or something equally worthy of such emotion. I called my dad at his office and proceeded to verbalize a tearfully choppy explanation of my woes, knowing I’d find comfort in his voice and open invitation to come home and regroup for a few days. It was what I needed to hear and offered immediate relief from the seemingly unstoppable flow of tears running down my face.
I boarded my flight and thought of past times when I’d felt defeated and how I’ve always managed to come out ahead, to make the best of the situation, or at least learn a lesson that would make me stronger/wiser in the future. … by the time the airplane was ready to come back to earth… I was too.
I decided to re-post something I wrote months back that always reminds me of what’s important in life; that even though we may momentarily be set back by one of life’s curve balls, keeping things in perspective is half of the solution.
Things I’ve Learned Along The Way 01/27/2010
Let me tell you about the best gift I ever received. 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) seizures 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 Belle 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. 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.
