Facing Epilepsy with Courage

I’ve been living with epilepsy since I was 11 years old. Before that, my life was tennis. I started playing when I was three, and I spent my childhood training and competing. Every weekend, I traveled to a tournament. Tennis was everything to me. It wasn’t just a sport, it was my identity, my escape, and my passion. Then, right in between two tournaments, I had my first tonic-clonic seizure. I’ll never forget it. I was young, scared, and confused. I didn’t know what was happening or why, and suddenly, everything in my world started to shift.

Living with epilepsy changed my life in ways I never expected. Emotionally, I felt like I no longer fit in. I felt different, or like I was the odd one out. I started to feel like “the girl with seizures,” and it’s a hard thing to carry, especially when you’re just trying to grow up like everyone else. I didn’t want people to see me differently, but I felt like they did. One of the hardest things for me was not being able to drive. I hate asking people for rides. I always feel like I’m being a burden or an inconvenience, even though the people around me are so kind and willing to help. Still, it’s hard to shake that feeling. 

Physically, seizures take a toll that most people don’t see. They leave me exhausted, foggy, and bruised. I’ve broken my jaw, fractured my chin, had multiple concussions, bitten my tongue too many times to count, and been covered in bruises and scratches. Every time it happens, my body feels like it’s been through a war. There is also the constant fear of having one in public, at work, in the grocery store, or around people who might not know what to do. It’s always there in the back of my mind.

Through all these challenges, I kept playing tennis. Even when things were hard, tennis stayed a part of my life. During the summer, I would train six or seven hours a day, and during the school year, about five hours. I had tournaments on the weekends. It gave me something to hold onto, and it was something that reminded me of who I was beyond epilepsy. I was lucky to have a coach who cared about me. He made sure I was safe on the court but also never stopped pushing me to be my best. I even had seizures during practice sometimes, which was frustrating, but he never made me feel like I didn’t belong there.

The seizure medications have been one of the hardest parts of this journey. I’ve dealt with so many side effects over the years, including weight fluctuations, dizziness, depression, anxiety, hair loss, and constantly feeling cold. It’s overwhelming, and some days, I feel okay, but other days, I’m completely drained. It’s a nonstop balancing act trying to manage the seizures while also coping with what the medication does to the rest of my body and mind.

I have had a lot of support on my journey. My fiancé, Nolan, is amazing. He helps me through seizures, reminds me to take my medication, makes sure I'm safe, and encourages me when I’m struggling. He is always there for me. My parents, Ron and Denise, are incredible too. They’ve done everything they can to help me stay healthy and positive, and to make sure I’m never going through anything alone. My friends and extended family are also supportive. I’ve had the same neurologist for the past eight years, and they are someone who listens, understands, and truly cares about my well-being.

I am extremely grateful to have a service dog named Bodie, who has already made a meaningful difference in my life. Bodie is trained to help detect when I’m about to have a seizure, giving me more time to prepare and stay safe. It brings me such peace of mind knowing I have him by my side, and I’m so thankful for the independence, comfort, and support he’s already given me.

Overcoming these challenges isn’t easy, but I do my best to stay positive. I’ve learned that when I focus on lifting myself up, even on the hard days, it makes a big difference. Staying hopeful and reminding myself of my strength helps me feel less stressed, and honestly, it makes bouncing back from seizures a little bit easier.

I hope that everyone who reads this finds some strength and encouragement in my story. My biggest hope is that it inspires you to start using your voice and to stop hiding your epilepsy, and to know that you are never alone on this journey. You are amazing, strong, and capable of so much more than you realize. Living with epilepsy is not easy, but your story matters, and your voice has the power to make a difference. Don’t be afraid to share it.

I’m not just the girl who has seizures. I’m strong. I’m determined. I’m an athlete. I’m a fiancé. I'm a daughter. I’m a friend. I’m human. I’m still learning to navigate this journey, and it’s not always easy, but I’m doing it. I decided to tell my story because, over the years, I’ve realized just how important it is to use my voice. For a long time, I was scared to open up about having epilepsy. I didn’t want to be seen differently or make anyone uncomfortable. But I know now that there are so many others out there who feel the same way — afraid to speak up, afraid to share what they’re going through. And that’s exactly why I’m sharing mine. If my story can make even one person feel less alone or more understood, then it’s worth it. Talking about epilepsy matters, and no one should feel like they have to hide it.