Claire S.
Photography by Peyton Mears
If you’re reading this, vulnerability inspires vulnerability.
Authenticity, vulnerability, and empathy. All narratives of how to live that are frequently shoved down our throats by social media and society, but do we really know what it means to live that way? As humans, we crave community, especially when life takes unexpected turns. Loss and hardship are inevitable, yet navigating them as a young adult can feel overwhelming and isolating. In March of 2023, I was diagnosed with an iatrogenic chronic health condition called Topical Steroid Withdrawal. By early September, after six relentless months of struggle, I hit what felt like absolute rock bottom. It was in that moment of despair that I was given what felt like a second chance at life.
Everything became sentimental because life felt fleeting. I found myself grieving what once was, while simultaneously trying to make peace with what life had become. Despite the shame and embarrassment I experienced when I looked in the mirror, people treated me with a kindness and compassion that was healing. No matter how much I wanted to disappear, I chose to continue to show up to class and to life, while my skin quite literally peeled away. Each day was a battle against the pain, but also a step toward resilience. The never-ending cycle of flaring, drying, and hurting pushed me to my limits. I often wished for time to speed up, longing to escape my own reality.
I was confident in my potential to succeed academically and in my extracurriculars, but the overwhelming physical anguish and sleep deprivation constantly tested me, striving to stand in my way. The deep, relentless itch would consume me the second I tried to focus on anything else, leaving me feeling trapped in my own body.
I’ve always considered myself strong and resilient, and I believed my past experiences had prepared me for anything. But this condition stripped my life down to its barest form. No makeup, no stylish clothes, no hairstyles that tickled my neck or face, no processed foods, no coffee, no scented laundry detergent, no perfume etc., … just survival. The beautiful thing about being forced to live in the struggle is that you learn what truly matters. As people often say, "Everything is super important until you are sick. Then you realize there was only ever one thing that mattered: your health.”
Through it all, I’ve found gratitude in the simplest of things: my morning matcha, the friends who embraced me as I was, the family who showed unwavering support, the joy of sleeping through the night, waking up early for church, and the feeling of the breeze on my skin without pain. In the wise words of Ted Lasso, "I promise you there is something worse out there than being sad, and that's being alone and being sad. Ain't no one in this room alone."
Sixteen months later, I am slowly regaining my life, thanks to the medication that has provided some relief, and my frequent ocean dips that have helped stabilize my skin. Things aren’t back to “normal,” and I still face frequent setbacks, but I no longer take the small victories for granted. I can now sleep through the night, complete work without being consumed by an itch attack, and enjoy foods beyond the limited diet I once was forced to adhere to. In fact, it is because of the newfound empathy I gained through this difficult experience that I felt fueled with motivation and inspiration to become a changemaker in my community. It has empowered me to live more authentically, embrace vulnerability, and share my story with those whom I meet.
My struggles have shaped my perspective on life and propelled my passion for advocacy, philanthropy, and mental health. Experiencing the gift of health, even in small increments, has inspired me to give back and make it my life’s mission to leave a positive impact in the world through the strength that God has given me.
If you're reading this and facing your own challenges, know that healing, whether physical or emotional, is not linear. Tap into your systems of support, celebrate the smallest of victories, and remember that you are never alone and there is always light at the end of the tunnel… even if the tunnel feels never-ending. Life is fleeting and ever changing. Each day you are given to live, I challenge you to live it with intent and purpose. Don’t let life’s obstacles get in the way of you making life your playground. Find joy in the simplicity of things, and think about how you want those around you to remember you. What story will you tell?
If you take away just one thing from all of this, let it be that vulnerability inspires vulnerability. Only through embracing this can we truly open ourselves up to the beauty that the world has to offer.
Claire S., Florida State University
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