How do you name your pain?

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The Mindful Migraine Blog

November 17, 2025

In Shakespeare’s play “Romeo and Juliet”, the heroine whisper-wails into the night-air off her balcony; “O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo?” After he doesn’t reply, she reassures him that she couldn’t care less what his last name is, or that his family is her family’s sworn enemy.

Soon after she doubles down;

“What’s in a name? That which we call a rose
By any other name would smell as sweet…”

A rose is a rose, in other words, no matter what you call it.

And it makes sense.

No matter what language I translate “rose” into – the rose stays a rose, only its label changes. Here’s a few versions I collected off Google Translate (I speak no other languages beyond plain English and the language of Migraine-Pain so apologies if I’m wrong): rose = bara, gül, irozi, méiguī, roos, rosa, warda…

I also remember that in the Victorian Era there was a language of flowers in which different colored roses meant different things: red was for passion, burgundy for devotion, pink was gratitude, yellow friendship… it made a difference which color bouquet you were gifted from a would-be-suitor… and which rose YOU wore in your hair or lapel for the next encounter. A quick google search reveals carnations were even more complex, with solid colors meaning approval, and stripes being a rejection to whatever mysterious request had been made…

…and don’t get me started on how curious it becomes when you leave the West and go East, where red and white and black all take on different meanings to our expectations of love, innocence and death…

Of course, this is a blog that’s interested in all things mindful with a preference to finding clues on holistic healing… so whilst I’m all for smelling the solid-yellow roses, we’re not going to stay in the garden any longer… it’s time to turn to what I really came here for: how do you name your pain?

I’ve mentioned a few times that I call my pain-brain Goldilocks (a quick search of the blog revealed I’ve mentioned her 9 times (Search Results for “Goldilocks”)). I name ‘her’ this because it helps me separate migraine-me from me-me. I can be a little frustrated at migraine-me without being downright rude to me-me… and I can remind myself that in the same way Goldilocks was a bit of a diva-drama-queen, a nit-picky, whiny-brat (sorry not sorry), so is my migraine-brain… love you Goldy… looking forward to seeing you next year… or never!

A while back I came across another lady who appears to name her migraines – it was over on Shail’s Nest (“where fingers tap dance”) – and Shail mentioned that in the months that start with J she seems to be her most-migrainey and “Ms Migraine” becomes her constant companion.

Ms Migraine.

I like it. It sounds… dignified and genteel.

Madame Migraine works too. As would Mr Migraine.

But now I think about it, there’s nothing dignified or genteel about Ms Migraine if she’s anything like Goldilocks. If they’re related in any way, then these chicks have a bad habit of turning up at random times, without forewarning or door-knocking… they just barge in and make themselves comfortable on the couch as you hurriedly rearrange all the furniture and the day’s schedule to accommodate them… they always overstay their welcome… and then, ungrateful house guests that they are… they always leave a mess behind when they eventually trail away… which is annoying… but at least they’re gone…

I guess, what I’m trying to say is – when we personify our pain – it helps.

I was surprised that I didn’t find much information on the advantages of personifying your pain when I went looking – perhaps there’s a concern that if you familiarize yourself too much you risk accommodating it too much…. but if you live with chronic pain, I would prefer a friendly rather than fearful relationship… (I’ve mentioned before that turning my pain into a clumsy sitcom character rather than a horror story monster helped me (here)).

After much searching, I did find one resource, which was referring to mental health struggles (such as anxiety, OCD and depression) – it had a series of steps I think could also work for physical pain: How Personifying Mental Health Struggles Can Help You Heal – Center For Mindfulness & CBT

To practice personifying your health-struggle (mental or physical), utilize the following techniques (summarized from the original):

Give it a name – something silly, playful, or serious: whatever makes your struggle feel less powerful.
Describe its personality – Is it a naggy, a know-it-all, a whiner? What (or who) does it sound or look like?
Start a dialogue – Speak to it, write to it, or just think through what you would say with phrases like:
- “Thanks for your input, Wanda, but I’ve got it from here.”
- “I see you, Dan, but I’m still getting out of bed today.”
- “Nice try, Doubt Bully. I’m not falling for that trick again.”
Practice noticing when it shows up – address it; “Ah, there you are” and then, keep going about your day.
Use imagery – Picture yourself carrying your pain/anxiety around, holding its hand, moving it into the passenger seat of your car… somewhere close, but separate to you.

As the post says: “When you give your struggles a character, you start to relate to them differently. Instead of thinking, ‘I’m such a screw-up for having this thought,’ you might say, ‘Oh look, there’s Wanda again, doing her thing.‘ This aids in self-compassion, because instead of over-identifying with your symptoms, you can step back and observe them with curiosity, not shame. When your mental health struggles are personified, this separation leaves room for you to reclaim your true self.”

So then… move over Goldilocks, there’s a new girl in sore-head-town and her name is Wanda… no not really… I can’t swap out Goldilocks after all these years (she’s been with me since my first migraine when I was 11 (albeit an unnamed little-girl shadow until 3 years ago when the migraines became chronic)).

I tried researching the topic in one last place – a Reddit thread – to see if anyone else names their pain, and it did not disappoint. Names and images that came up included (in the order I read them): an extremely annoying valley girl (of a tumor who always uses phrases like “barf bag”), my dear old friend Arthur (arthritis), big brown bear (of an unspecified cause), snake-and-wolf-duo (also unknown), Bertha (the herniated disc who is “a stern, big, overbearing, mean-spirited killjoy” who only ever wears brown), Rhonda (“a squatty bitter old biddy” of unknown medical origins), Chucky and the Bride of Chucky (ovarian cysts), Delores (because ‘dolor’ (where the name comes from) is Latin for pain and sorrow, which suits fibromyalgia)… and lastly The Gremlin (the skull-dwelling, ax-wielding, cause of migraines).

Suddenly Goldilocks is looking like a sweetheart!

Curious to know – is your pain a disembodied, amorphous non-entity, something with a vague shape or color, or more of an identifiable critter, creature, or character?