There are some people who can talk about themselves easily - vulnerability doesn’t make them nervous, and they don’t mind opening up about the joys and the sorrows of their personal lives. I was not one of those people.
Part of it is just who I am as a socially anxious introvert. Talking in general makes me nervous. I once called the dog groomer to make an appointment for my dog, and as soon as the groomer answered the phone, I panicked and hung up. I did eventually make an appointment for my dog, and the groomer never asked about my over-the-phone-awkwardness (whether that’s because they just thought the call failed or because they were sparing me, I’m not sure). But the point is that conversations as casual and inane as making an appointment over the phone are anxiety-inducing for me.
Another, and possibly more substantial, part of it is that I grew up a pastor’s kid. I was so used to having other people come to my family with their problems that I didn’t think anyone had the time or the energy to care about my problems (let me emphasize that this thought was entirely self-inflicted, and my parents did nothing to make me feel this way). But because of this thought, I internalized so much, determined to deal with everything on my own.
Thankfully, over time, I realized the importance of asking for (and accepting!) help from others, but there were still parts of my personal life that I just didn’t feel the need to share about. My health, for instance. As many with chronic illness have felt at some point in their lives (or maybe still feel), I thought that my symptoms were something everybody dealt with, and I was just being dramatic. I didn’t want anyone to become annoyed with me if I was being dramatic, so once again, I internalized my struggle.
“There were still parts of my personal life that I just didn’t feel the need to share about. My health, for instance...so once again, I internalized my struggle.”
But Bailey, you might ask. Here you are writing about your chronic illness on a very public forum, so something must have changed, right?
Yes, as a matter of fact, something did change. And while I believe that sharing our stories requires boundaries for us to know which parts of our story are safe to share and with whom they can be trusted, I realized three things that empowered me to share about my chronic illness:
#1. I would not have been diagnosed had someone not shared with me their experience with chronic illness.
We all have a different story of how we were diagnosed. When I first acknowledged that no, I was not just being dramatic about my symptoms, my doctor ran a handful of tests that all came back normal. Sometimes a normal test result is a relief, but when you’re struggling daily and want to know why, a normal test result is invalidating. I was unsure of what to do until I heard a friend talk about her experience with chronic illness, and I realized that we had so. much. in. common. Because of her, I had the validation and the confidence I needed to continue pursuing help. I did copious amounts of research and presented it to my doctor. Thankfully, my doctor listened to me and referred me to someone who specialized in the topic of my research. This specialist is the one who finally diagnosed me.
Since my diagnosis, I have felt so much support and validation from others who exist within the chronic illness community, whether or not they have the same illness(es) as me. I desperately want to provide others with that same sense of support and validation. And maybe my conversations about chronic illness will never lead someone to their own diagnosis, but I’m at least spreading awareness about a condition once thought to be rare. You know why it’s not considered rare anymore? Because people have talked about their experience with it.
#2. Sharing about my chronic illness benefits me physically.
Remember how I said that it’s okay to ask for and accept help? Asking is a key part of the equation, because there are not many times people will offer you something if they don’t first know what you need. Earlier this year, I was involved in an event for my job. The night before the event, the agenda changed, and new expectations were placed upon the employees. Without agreeing to do so, I was expected to lead a group on a scavenger hunt that sprawled a large campus of varying terrains. Oh, and the scavenger hunt was timed, which meant that the group would need to run, or at least Olympic speed-walk (take a minute and look up a video of Olympic speed-walking - you won’t regret it), to cover as much ground as possible. Suffice it to say, that activity was not great for my physical well-being.
I was frustrated that I had been voluntold to lead this activity. And, to be fair, I probably should have been told about it further in advance. But I quickly realized that I can’t be frustrated with the leadership for not meeting my physical needs because I never told them what my physical needs were. Since this event, I’ve been a bit more open about my chronic illness at work, and my employers have been willing to accommodate me. If I’d shared about my chronic illness sooner, then it also would’ve physically benefitted me sooner.
#3. Sharing about my chronic illness allows me to be used by God in a different way.
I love the story of the woman at the well, which is found in John 4. The story begins with Jesus approaching a well in Samaria around noon (v. 5-6). A woman happened to be there drawing water from the well. Historians agree that the woman’s presence at this time was unusual because the woman was alone and noon was not an optimal time for drawing water because the weather was warmer. It’s speculated that the woman came by herself at this time to avoid other townspeople, and as she begins conversing with Jesus, it becomes clear why that might be.
Jesus reveals that he knows personal details about this woman’s life despite never having met her before, like the fact that she’s had five husbands and is currently with a man who is not her husband (v. 18). As the conversation continues, Jesus shares that he is the promised Messiah (v. 25-26). This woman, shocked and amazed, returns to town and shares her account of what had just happened to the townspeople. Then “many Samaritans from that town believed in him because of the woman’s testimony, ‘He told me all that I ever did’” (v. 39).
People pull different lessons from this passage, but one of the lessons I’ve learned is this: Your story matters.
Eventually, the Samaritans in this town believed in Jesus because they came to know him themselves (v. 42), but it was this woman’s story that led them to Jesus’ feet. Her willingness to share that she met a man while drawing water, something which she did at a certain time to avoid seeing other townspeople, piqued their curiosity. Her vulnerability in revealing that this man knew the details of her personal life that likely caused her to be held at arms’ length from others moved them to seek out Jesus.
My testimony of how God has worked in my life with chronic illness is different from the testimony of the woman at the well, but that doesn’t make it any less powerful. I used to worry about sharing the details of my struggles with other people because those people looked to my family for help with their own struggles. I worried that if those people knew I had struggles too, they would view me and my family as weaker. In a sense, I was right. My struggles show that I have weakness, but as 2 Corinthians 12:9 teaches, God’s power is made perfect in weakness. Sometimes sharing about the weakness that I experience from chronic illness, whether that be physical or emotional, allows God to work in me and through me in ways that would not be possible if I maintained the illusion of my own perfect strength.
“I worried that if those people knew I had struggles too, they would view me and my family as weaker. In a sense, I was right. My struggles show that I have weakness, but as 2 Corinthians 12:9 teaches, God’s power is made perfect in weakness.”
After reading this, you still might not feel inclined to share about your chronic illness, and that’s okay. But I want you to know that you can, and that sharing parts of your story with boundaries in place can be a rich and beautiful experience. Sometimes chronic illness can feel like a heavy burden weighing us down. That burden can feel lighter if we share it with those who will listen. Sharing about it can benefit you, benefit others, and allow God to perfect his strength in you. If you don’t know where to begin, the Focus Fix Fam is always ready and willing.
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Written by: Bailey Humphrey, EdD
If you love "The Bachelorette," a good podcast, artisan grilled cheese sandwiches, or are just a human being in general, it's time to "accept this rose" and become BFFs with Bailey. A High School English teacher and cheerleading coach by day, Bailey's off-hours are often spent in her living room curled up with a book, a Brown Sugar Oatmilk Shaken Espresso in hand, and her German Shepherd/Border Collie mix, Willie, at her feet. We have nothin' but good things to say about this fabulous member of our volunteer Writing Team!