"I am not afraid to show you my trauma, although the world tells me I should be. I will not cover up my pain in a pink ribbon. I would rather defy the images of smiling, racing women high-fiving their supporters as sign up for the next triathlon. I’m sick of the trite memes about cancer-thriving and how beautiful my scars are.
It is true that I survived. I endured. And I celebrate that. But I don’t see conventional beauty in this mutilated body. No, those scars remind me of scalpels and shower stools and suppositories and so much sadness.
But why are we so quick to deny our suffering in front of others? Or even be honest with ourselves about it?
Why are we so completely OBSESSED with being OKAY when things are most definitely not okay? Why do I find myself trying to put a positive spin on every single last wretched thing that has happened over the last nearly 3 years?
Because we’re all still suckers for happy endings. Who wants to see a sad story without one? Challenges are supposed to come with life lessons. Difficulties define our values. Right? What use is this all if I don’t walk away with some new philosophical outlook on life and gratitude oozing from my mouth as I stand at the top of the mountain.
Pain is so much more palatable when it comes in a cute package, wrapped up tastefully and tidy, topped with some sort of meaningful bow. Plain suffering, grieving, losing….these things are icky and un-Insta-inspiring. It’s uncomfortable, even when you’re looking at your own reflection.
But today is #WorldCancerDay. And today, I feel tired and sad and everything hurts. It hurts to remember, but it hurts more to forget. I was quite literally cut open only 3 weeks ago. Am I at the end of this JoUrNeY? Maybe, but it’s never going to be over. Something will always be picking at the scabs. Reopening the wounds. Going back to the place where the violence happened.
It’s part of our continuing story. So is treatment and hair loss and physical therapy. Getting the best news. But sometimes the worst. It’s not pretty or tidy.
Some days seem full of meaning. Other days are just days.
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