I can’t remember a time when pain wasn’t part of my daily routine.
My migraine attacks began around ten years ago, when I was 16, though I didn’t know then what they were. At first, there were times when I wondered if I was hallucinating – I didn’t understand what was happening to me. Over time, the symptoms worsened.
Looking back, I realise there was so much going on in my life then: I was a refugee, initially moving from Iraq to Turkey during incredibly difficult circumstances.
When I first saw a neurologist, I was told it was probably related to mental health and that I shouldn’t “think about it too much.” As a teenager, I accepted that. I learned to live with the pain. Looking back now, that feels like a type of gaslighting, and I feel so frustrated to think that if I were taken seriously back then, things could be different now.
By the time I arrived in the UK in 2018, migraine was such a normal part of my life that I had almost forgotten most people live without that kind of pain.
For years, I was told my symptoms were stress, PMS, or simply “part of being a woman.” Scans and tests came back normal. But alongside the head pain, I was experiencing nausea, loss of appetite, light and sound sensitivity, extreme fatigue, and episodes where I could barely process what people were saying.
Finally, one GP said, “This sounds like migraine.” At that point, I was having attacks way more than ten times per month; it had developed into chronic migraine.
I wasn’t surprised. I had already done my research. But receiving the diagnosis gave me something important: validation. It wasn’t “just in my head.” It was real. Still, the response from healthcare professionals often felt dismissive – “take this pill and just deal with it.” But migraine isn’t just headaches. Without warning, I can suddenly become half-blind with migraine aura.
At one point, I wanted to pursue pharmacy studies. I started the degree, but the pressure was overwhelming. During placements and heavy lab work that ran from 8am to 5 or 6pm, I would nearly black out. I experienced severe breakdowns – crying after sessions, questioning how I could sustain that life with brain fog, pain, and concentration issues.
Changing career direction felt like letting my family, and myself, down. But I knew I had to choose my health.
I moved into pharmaceutical studies instead. The field still inspires me, but in a way that feels more manageable. However, I am still searching for what works for me, mentally, physically and doesn’t worsen my condition, this requires strong self-belief and discipline, while considering my health.
Migraine is unpredictable. It can take the joy out of a perfectly normal day. For a while, I was in denial, telling myself, “this isn’t happening.” But eventually, I realised there was freedom in acceptance. I cannot control everything about migraine, but I can control how I respond.
Triggers are everywhere – lights, smells, environment, certain foods. For me, lactose and gluten seem to make things worse. But sometimes, an attack appears completely out of nowhere. I was also recently diagnosed with IBD, which makes everything more complex.
I often hesitate to tell people. So many think it’s “just a headache.” Unless you’ve experienced it, you truly don’t understand. Because of that, I would never judge anyone else’s pain.
Managing migraine requires courage and self-motivation. It requires a level of optimism. It can require stepping away from negativity when necessary.
I’ve learned that the people around you matter. “Red flag energy” affects you more than you realise!
During my work shifts, which involved supporting students at my university for up to 11 hours at a time, I would forget about the pain, which tells me a lot about how the environment affects migraine. Thus, I’ve realised something important: my passion is helping others. I want people to feel heard, respected and confident in themselves.
Living with chronic migraine has deeply affected my mental health. Being the eldest daughter and family supporter does add to the stress. I can see how stress and trauma have been a major factor in my chronic migraine developing, but I don’t let it control me. I learned to value my independence and freedom, which makes me who I am, giving me the will to choose my future, work hard for my mental stability and financial security, while being able to enjoy my life as well!
There have been periods of very severe depression in my journey – feeling like I couldn’t do things other people could do so easily. Feeling weak.
But we are not weak! People who live with migraine are incredibly strong. We continue studying, working, caring for others, smiling, even while navigating invisible symptoms. I find it so inspiring to read others’ experiences on The Migraine Trust website and their social media channels – it reminds me that although everyone is different, there is a lot that we have in common in managing this condition.
I am so proud of how far I have come, having to start from zero upon arriving in the UK, and now I am graduating with my first BSc alongside many other accomplishments.
For anyone else reading this who has felt the same, I want you to be so proud of yourself for thriving while managing your invisible pain!
I would want people with migraine to know – your health is priceless and nothing can replace it when it’s gone, so value it and spread awareness of migraine. And remember, we are here to support each other and we can change the world for the better for us!
