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At 12 years old, I was diagnosed with epilepsy, a chronic seizure disorder. As time passed, the epilepsy blossomed from complex-partial stares into tonic-clonic (grand mal) episodes where I’d be convulsing. From that time to now, the odds have been pushing on me, and I simply “put my armour on, and show you how strong I am.”

Due to my condition, I face stigmas, implicit biases, and people’s ignorance in general. These challenges were severely diminished when I spoke up. Epilepsy is not me; I am the “purple warrior,” a person fighting epilepsy, covered in battle wounds. In situations like these, self-advocacy is needed to get the quality of life we deserve.

Although I was diagnosed with a complicated brain condition, I am self-sufficient—even with the baggage epilepsy came with. I always wanted to learn and prosper. I may not have become the pediatric clinical psychologist I once dreamed of becoming, but I hold many other titles. I made sure I graduated from high school, an important accomplishment because so many had their doubts.

My first support group was before COVID, so we met in person at Rhode Island Hospital. Epilepsy Foundation New England paired Certified Community Health Workers with clients in need of resources and later facilitated Zoom support meetings. I spoke so freely about epilepsy that a worker suggested I join the EFNE program to become certified.

We all deserve a good quality of life, even though social determinants of health work against it more often than not. Today, I continue fighting housing problems, trying to move, building a network, and launching my work—all while juggling occasional electrical misfires in the brain. It is not an easy combination to manage, but I keep trying, even with the risks.