Having epilepsy was something I never expected. Like most people diagnosed with a chronic condition, I just wanted to live a normal life. But epilepsy doesn’t always allow for normal. It interrupts; it isolates; it injures — sometimes silently, sometimes violently.
I was diagnosed with epilepsy at 12 years old. I was confused; I was bullied; I was judged, and often overlooked. Since then, seizures have shaped my life in ways most people can’t see. I’ve experienced the fear of having a seizure in public, the humiliation of being misunderstood, and the pain of being excluded. But the hardest part wasn’t the seizures themselves; it was the silence that surrounded them.
For years, I noticed how few people knew how to respond when someone had a seizure. Including me. Teachers, coworkers, even medical staff sometimes panicked or did the wrong thing. I wondered: If I had a seizure in front of the wrong person, would I be safe? Would I be helped or harmed by lack of knowledge?
That question lit a fire in me. I decided I wasn’t just going to live with epilepsy. I was going to fight for others who live with it, too. That’s when I founded B.E.A.T.S – Bringing Epilepsy Awareness To Society, a grassroots movement focused on equipping the schools and community with the knowledge, tools, and compassion to protect students and individuals who have seizures.
I began by creating what would become a life-changing piece of legislation in Tennessee: a Seizure Safety Training law. I met with lawmakers, Senator Raumesh Akbari, policy director Lauren Agee, and other representatives. I shared my story over and over again and refused to let epilepsy remain invisible. It wasn’t easy. It meant reliving trauma, pushing through stigma, and learning to use my voice even when it shook.
But this year, that fight paid off. The bill passed. My home state is now among the growing list of states that have recognized the urgent need for seizure safety protocols in schools and in the community. The new law ensures that school personnel are trained in seizure first aid and that schools are better prepared to protect lives, not just react.
This law is not just about policy. It’s about humanity. It says to every student living with epilepsy or anyone who has a seizure: You are seen. You are safe. You matter.
I think about all the children who will now be safer at school because of this. I think about the parents who won’t have to fear every school day. I think about little Bre’Asia terrified and misunderstood, and I wish I could tell her: One day, you’ll change the world for kids like you.
To anyone living with epilepsy, your story is powerful. Your life has purpose. And your voice can make changes, even in rooms where it once felt unwelcome. This law is a victory, but it’s just the beginning. Awareness must turn into action. Training must become standard. Empathy must become policy. I won’t stop fighting until everyone with epilepsy has the safety, support, and dignity they deserve. Not just in my state, but I will advocate as far as my voice will take me. I am beyond grateful for the support and sponsorship of Senator Akbari, Lauren Agee, and the sponsors of the bill. Chief operating officer and my fiancé Keith Marshall Jr., who is the glue to B.E.A.T.S, has been my backbone and advocate. I also thank my family who have supported me through this journey.
Epilepsy doesn’t define me. But it has refined me into an advocate, a founder, and now, a changemaker.
Bre’Asia Bradley is an epilepsy advocate, founder of B.E.A.T.S, and the driving force behind Tennessee’s Seizure Safety Training law.