“Vulnerability is the heart, the heart, the center of meaningful human experience.” ~ Brené Brown, Bold
Migraine. I’ve had them since I was five years old. Sometimes they suck, sometimes they really suck. But I have them.
When I was five years old, I had electrodes placed on my skull to perform an EEG. I didn’t understand the name so I called it “Sleepy EG” because they made me fall asleep to do it.
At the time, I didn’t realize how much chronic pain would interfere with my daily life. All I know is that I’m drifting off to EG.
It was also during my childhood that my personality began to form, as it does for everyone. I was a shy, introverted child, and I quickly learned the social rules of not expressing my struggles. I’ve learned to say “I’m fine” when someone asks me how I am, even if I really am not.
I think vulnerability is something to avoid. However, as I got older and my migraines became more severe, my chronic pain and fragile worlds eventually merged.
As many people with chronic pain will tell you, my life has become a delicate dance between preventing/treating migraines and enjoying life. But dealing with migraine frequency and severity isn’t easy.
When I was six years old, I had a migraine the morning of a dance recital. It was a Disney-themed recital and I was supposed to be wearing a Minnie Mouse costume. Pains in my head debilitated me for several hours.
The concert was in the evening and I didn’t know if I would be able to perform that night. I was very worried that I wouldn’t be able to perform in a Minnie costume that night. I was worried that I would let the entire dance class down.
After lying in the dark for a few hours, the migraine went away and I was able to perform. But that’s when I became familiar with the anxiety that comes with migraines and the feeling of letting others down. Because of this anxiety and fear of expressing my feelings, I didn’t let anyone at the dance studio know that this was a battle for me.
When I was in my early twenties, I suffered from migraines, which was a turning point in my journey with migraines and in my life. Here’s a bigger, more disastrous Minnie costume scene.
I interned with a theater company for a year. It was a prestigious, selective internship for which I moved across the country.
I was qualified, but being new to the professional world I was stressed out and stress was a trigger for my migraines. I have a lot of late night activities and I haven’t mastered adjusting my sleep schedule around them yet.
The combination of sleep deprivation and stress was not a good one and I was constantly getting colds, flu, and of course migraines.
During the internship, the troupe held a grand party at the Ritz-Carlton Hotel. I was in charge of the event, running around setting up and checking in on donors.
About two hours before the party, I saw the scary lights that usually fill my field of vision and precede a migraine. But I was working, an early career professional, and I felt like there was nothing I could do or do about it.
The event started and guests started to pour in. Everything was going well until I felt sick and felt like I was going to be sick.
I tried to go to the bathroom but kept walking across the event hall. There was another group of people in the room and I had to push past them.
Suddenly, I could no longer control the urge to vomit. There I was, huddled among a crowd of partygoers in the Ritz-Carlton hotel ballroom, and threw up.
It was all over my clothes and the floor. I was told it affected other people, although I didn’t realize it at the time.
What happened next is a blur, including me going into the bathroom to vomit more, crying in the hotel room, and my coworkers and boss coming to check on me. I feel humiliated.
After years of avoiding vulnerability, this experience forced me to be vulnerable, both physically and emotionally. Halfway through the party, I couldn’t control the physical vomit coming out of my mouth, and I was too exhausted to hide my embarrassment and sadness about the event for the rest of the day.
We are taught not to show this vulnerability to others, especially colleagues. But it has happened. After that incident, how do I go back to work and face everyone next week?
I returned to work the following Monday, and it was in facing this situation that I learned more about vulnerability. I didn’t appreciate it at the time, but what I learned will impact how I handle situations and relationships in my life in the future.
Since everyone at work had seen or heard about my embarrassing moment, one of the only options I had was to be honest about the experience.
In fact, it was refreshing to be open about my migraines and my embarrassment about them. I feel like we all spend a lot of time trying to convince other people that we’re fine when that’s not the case. It’s a relief to talk openly about real life with others.
Here are examples of some of the vulnerable things I’ve told colleagues about my migraine experience.
“I’m really scared. I feel like my migraines will never go away.
“When I felt sick, I tried to go to the bathroom, but it was always across the hall. I felt helpless.
“I don’t want to disappoint people by admitting that I have migraines.”
Vulnerability allows me to connect with my colleagues and we are able to communicate about the human experience of embarrassment, pain, helplessness, and anxiety. Several colleagues shared stories about migraines or other embarrassing situations in their lives.
Yes, these are my colleagues and that’s how I see them. But I also suddenly felt that I could treat them as ordinary people.
Vulnerabilities do not apply in every situation. Sometimes it’s unsafe or inappropriate. Nowadays, I don’t talk about every life situation with my colleagues and I only bring up migraine if it comes up in some way in the conversation.
But this experience with chronic pain gave me a taste of what it feels like to open up to others and the benefits it can bring. It encouraged me to talk openly about migraines and other struggles in my life with family and friends. Some of the best, most fulfilling relationships in my life have come from being vulnerable with others.
Life is simply unpredictable. You can plan and prepare all you want, but sometimes things happen. When they do, vulnerability can help you glean the positives from unfortunate situations and build strong relationships.
Although I have learned my lesson from migraines, I want to be clear that I would still rather not have them. They caused me a lot of pain and limitations. I don’t agree that the saying “everything happens for a reason” applies to every situation in life.
But the reality is, I do suffer from migraines, so I might as well look for the silver lining and learn from it.
Indeed, I never would have learned so much about vulnerability if I hadn’t thrown up from a migraine at the Ritz-Carlton.
About Haley Bierman
Haley Bierman is a fundraiser and writer living in the Boston area. She enjoys writing in a variety of genres, such as memoir, essays, short stories, and poetry. Hailey is also a trained singer and is honing her lyric writing skills as she begins writing original songs.
