Beyond the statistics are the human stories. Migraine is still too often dismissed as “just a headache,” but for those who live with it, the reality is very different: unpredictable, profoundly misunderstood, and unique to each person.

To understand what that means in daily life, nine Lundbeck colleagues share their experiences in this article. Their stories span continents and cultures, but they echo with the same truths: the long road to diagnosis and getting the right treatment, the invisible battles at work, the stigma and misunderstandings connected to it, and the resilience it takes to keep pushing through.  

For many people, migraine remains nameless for years. For JaeYeon Lee, Medical Science Liaison, Lundbeck in South Korea, the first signs were confusing. She believed she had indigestion.

“Whenever I was stressed, I thought I had indigestion. I experienced severe nausea and vomiting, throwing up any food I ate. And then the severe headache that followed — I believed it was just part of that. When I consulted an internal medicine doctor, I was told that severe digestive issues could cause a headache. The headache itself was unilateral and felt intensely throbbing or pounding even when I simply walked,” she says.

For nearly two decades she sought answers in digestive medicine and painkillers, but nothing worked. It wasn’t until a colleague suggested she see a neurologist that she discovered the truth. A prescribed migraine treatment eased her pain within 30 minutes.

“I couldn’t believe it. After nearly 20 years of suffering, the pain disappeared completely. The key realisation was that once I took the migraine-specific medication, the headache disappeared, and simultaneously, the nausea, vomiting and inability to eat also completely stopped. This made it clear that the "indigestion" feeling was a gastrointestinal symptom of the migraine from the very beginning,” she recalls.

The relief was mixed with disbelief and even regret for the years lost. Her experience echoes that of Zhuolun Song, Medical Manager at Lundbeck in China, who also endured years of unanswered pain. He waited a decade for his diagnosis, enduring attacks through school and work, hiding his pain in a culture where people are expected to endure hardship in silence.

“I didn’t want to be seen as weak or unable to handle pressure,” he says.

The turning point came in 2019, when he was finally diagnosed with episodic migraine.

“Understanding from others helps even more than a pill,” he reflects.

Stories like theirs are far from unique. Globally, patients often wait years for a correct diagnosis. Misinterpretation, stigma, and limited awareness delay treatment — leaving people to suffer needlessly.²  

The lived reality of migraine goes far beyond a headache.

Evelyn Ingram, Marketing Coordinator, Lundbeck UK, shares her experience.

“You wake in the early hours, and the migraine is lurking. You drift off again, hoping it won’t get worse. Sometimes you win. Sometimes you don’t.”

When it hits, it’s all-consuming. Your head throbs, your stomach turns, and even reaching for pain medication feels impossible. You try cold packs, heat packs, pressure around your eye—anything for relief. Hunger gnaws at you, but nausea wins. Exhaustion sets in before the day even begins.

You want to show up, to give the day your best. Instead, guilt creeps in. You snapped at your partner over something small. You didn’t show up the way you wanted to. Another day lost. By 6:30 p.m., you’re back in bed, hoping sleep will help.

But there’s always tomorrow. You’ve made it through before, and you will again. Some days are hard—but not all of them. And even on the tough ones, just getting through is enough. 

“Migraine is not just a headache — it’s a full-body storm that hijacks your mind, your senses, and your energy,” says Khaoula Sadak, Global Brand Manager, Lundbeck in Denmark, who has lived with the condition since she was 17.

She describes how even on “functional” days, she feels half-brained, struggling to focus, forced to put in double the effort. During conferences, colleagues assumed she was avoiding them when she slipped away. The truth was far harsher.

“I would retreat to my room to vomit, to fight the pain, and to pray for sleep. The following days are no easier — my brain feels like pudding, every thought heavy and slow.”

Migraine is unpredictable.

For Sunjit Vagree, Medical Manager, Neurospecialty, Lundbeck UK and Ireland “I know my triggers. If I haven’t eaten well, slept properly, or stayed hydrated, I expect a migraine. But even when I do everything right, it can still strike out of the blue.”

That unpredictability is the hardest part. You plan for an important meeting or a special occasion you’ve been looking forward to. You’re excited, prepared — and then the migraine hits. Suddenly, you can’t function. You can’t enjoy the moment. You’re left battling pain instead of living the day you imagined.

“It’s that uncertainty that makes migraine so difficult to live with.”

The same unpredictability is familiar to Meri Fernandez, Global CX Capability Manager, Lundbeck in Denmark. For her, migraine often begins with aura: shimmering lights, blurred vision, and distortions that make it impossible to read or recognise faces.

“Very bright lights and strong contrasts can trigger it instantly,” she says.

At times, she finds refuge in Lundbeck’s “Brain Break” rooms – calm spaces created for personal silence and mental breaks – waiting for her vision to stabilise.

“What I wish people understood is that migraine is not ‘just a headache.’ It’s a neurological condition that can suddenly take away your ability to function.”

Mette L. Duus Andersen, Packaging Compliance Analyst at Lundbeck in Denmark, also experiences migraine with aura.

“For me, the aura appears as jagged, shimmering dots in one eye, signaling the onset of a one-sided headache combined with extreme nausea and fatigue. It feels like my brain isn’t working, leaving me drained and unable to concentrate,” she explains.

“At times, even maintaining a professional attitude at work feels impossible. It’s not just discomfort — it’s like my brain is sprained.”

Strong-smelling flowers, heavy perfumes, or even sitting too long without changing position can also trigger an attack for Hanne Roslyng-Stilou, Senior Paralegal, Global Legal, Lundbeck in Denmark. 

“If I’m quick enough to take my medicine, it may pass within hours — but if I miss that window, the pain can hammer away for days,” she says. 

“When it’s really bad, light and sound become unbearable, and I can do nothing but lie in a cool, dark room.”

While Meri, Sunjit and Mette battle unpredictability, for Miena Sarwari, Junior Coordinator People & Culture, Lundbeck in Germany, the struggle is frequency. She experiences up to 15–20 migraine days each month.

“If I called in sick every time, I could probably only work half the time,” she says.

“Migraine isn’t just pain. It’s sensitivity to light and sound, nausea, exhaustion — and even the medication makes me tired.”

For Lotte Wehding Møller, Assistant to Senior Vice President, Lundbeck in Denmark, living with migraine means living under constant calculation.

“My life has to be so square and controlled, thought out to the smallest detail. But sometimes I rebel: I go for the crazy hike, I eat or drink the foods and beverages that I know I should avoid, I push myself through a harsh workout. I do it knowing I may end up with a migraine. Sometimes it comes — but sometimes it doesn’t. And on those days, when I wake up free, it feels like the greatest gift in life.”

Together, their stories show the many faces of migraine: relentless unpredictability, exhausting frequency, and the constant need to calculate every choice.

These personal battles inevitably spill into professional life. Workplaces can be some of the toughest environments for people with migraine. Bright rooms, evening dinners, or even a poorly placed seat by a window can trigger an attack. Yet to others, the struggle is invisible.

Sunjit highlights how even the pace of work itself can become a trigger:

“For me, stressful times can trigger a migraine — for example when we have meetings, tight deadlines, or high-activity periods. I need to stay hydrated, get enough sleep, and exercise or get fresh air, but during busy times these all fall away.”

“What is hardest is not the work itself, but the misunderstanding,” says Khaoula.
Stepping away from a meeting or leaving early is often misinterpreted as lack of interest, or commitment to work.

“If I leave early or skip an event, it’s not because I don’t care. It’s because I’m fighting through an attack or trying to avoid one.”

Meri agrees: “Small adjustments, like letting me choose my seat or limiting exposure to harsh lighting, make a huge difference.”

Mette adds: “Knowing I can retreat to a Brain Break room when needed makes a significant difference. It allows me to recover more quickly and return to productivity, instead of losing an entire day.”

Hanne shares a similar experience. 

“Growing up, I learned that calling in sick was almost unacceptable — you were supposed to push through. That mindset is hard to shake, and sometimes I make things worse by not allowing myself the rest I need.” 

She adds that working from home a few days a week and taking short walks to release back and neck tension have become essential in managing her attacks.

Evelyn highlights another challenge — maintaining consistency:
“Difficulties at work are keeping up the momentum you set when you are migraine-free.”

For Zhuolun, support from his manager has been crucial.

“My manager checks in if I need to adjust my work pace during an attack. This flexibility reduces stress and helps me recover faster.”
For Lotte, the impact is more social.

“Very often, I’ve been seen as quiet and reserved — simply because I can’t participate to the extent I would like to. In reality, I was just hiding battling migraine.”

Together, these voices highlight a wider truth: migraine is one of the leading causes of disability worldwide, yet its impact on professional life remains underestimated.^3,4 Productivity is lost not only to sick days, but to the countless hours of “presenteeism” — being at work but unable to function fully.³

Because migraine is invisible, stigma often compounds the suffering. People are told to “toughen up” or accused of exaggerating. Some have been mistaken for being lazy, aloof, or antisocial when they were simply enduring an attack.
 

Sunjit’s experience also reflects how easily the condition can be misunderstood in high-pressure environments, where the need to step back or maintain healthy routines is often overlooked.

Evelyn’s story highlights another dimension of stigma — the silence people impose on themselves:
“I can’t say that I have felt unsupported — but that’s because I’ve often stayed quiet about my migraines. I’m certain if I spoke up, I would be supported. By staying quiet, I may even be feeding into the stigma that it’s ‘just another headache.’"

For years, Meri stayed quiet, afraid of being seen as overreacting. Miena felt the same hopelessness, convinced for seven years that seeking help wouldn’t make a difference. And for Zhuolun, cultural expectations reinforced that silence, keeping his pain hidden for a decade. Yet each has found strength in breaking the silence.

“To anyone with migraine: you are not weak, and you are not alone. Your pain is real, and it is not your fault,” underlines Zhuolun.

Meri adds: “Speaking up helps break the stigma. If more people share their stories, others won’t feel so isolated.”

Hanne agrees: 

“People can only help if they understand what you’re dealing with. Sometimes all it takes is a reminder from a colleague to step away from the screen or take a walk — those small gestures can mean the world.”

Despite the pain, all nine emphasise resilience. Migraine forces compromise, but it also reveals strength.

“Behind the silence of migraine lives courage louder than pain,” says Khaoula.

Lotte frames it as perseverance.

“Behind closed doors, there are colleagues striving, pushing through boundaries that for others are just everyday things. That’s the unseen strength of living with migraine.”

For Miena, resilience means not giving up.

“Migraine might not be something you can fully cure, but you can find treatment methods that help. There is always hope for better days ahead.”

For JaeYeon, courage turns personal relief into a call to action.

“After nearly 20 years, I finally realised it was migraine — and that it could be treated. I want others to find that relief sooner than I did.”

Migraine affects around one in seven people worldwide.⁵ The World Health Organization ranks it as the second leading cause of years lived with disability, yet it remains underdiagnosed and underestimated.⁶ The economic cost runs into the billions each year, but the human cost — the lost days, the silent battles, the misunderstood moments — cannot be measured.⁷

By speaking openly, JaeYeon, Khaoula, Meri, Miena, Zhuolun, Lotte, Mette, Sunjit and Evelyn are helping to change that. Their lived experiences reveal the diversity of migraine — from aura and vision loss to cultural silence, to years of misdiagnosis — but also the common threads of courage and perseverance.

Migraine may be invisible. But the strength it takes to live with it is not. Listening, understanding, and supporting those affected is essential if we are to make the invisible visible — and to improve brain health for millions of people worldwide.