The good with the bad

I have been absolutely blown away by the good things that have shown up at my proverbial door lately. I am in awe, deeply moved, flattered, and touched by the fact that women from around the world have reached out to me to let me know that I've inspired them. I've given them hope. I've let them know that they can get through whatever challenges may lie ahead for them. 

It's ironic that so much good has come out of such a crappy situation. I say that because when I was first diagnosed, I didn't want anyone to know. I didn't want anyone's pity or sadness or grief. I told close family members of the diagnosis, and a handful of good friends, and I asked them all to keep my secret. They obliged, but with one or two of them insisting that it might be good for me to open up about it. In hindsight, I wish I had started publicly documenting my experience right from the get-go, but I just wasn't ready to face it. There was so much on my plate - doctor's appointments, consultations, biopsies, blood draws, mammograms... It took all of my energy to just solely focus on those appointments and surgeries. 

It was during my second chemo that I was sitting in my chair, thinking long and hard about what an ex-boyfriend had said to me when I told him of the diagnosis. Looking back, I don't remember the entire conversation, I just remember that he thought it would be good for me to get it off my chest. Because burying that pain so deep inside of me was surely only going to cause more damage. I would hear cancer commercials on the radio, or see them on the TV, or in casual conversation someone would start talking about someone they knew who'd died of cancer, and every time one of these things happened, I would cringe. I couldn't escape cancer. It's like it was hunting me down, trying to remind me daily of its presence in my world. Cancer was my new normal at the time, whether I liked it or not. So, as my mom and I waited for my nurse to show up with my first meds and before putting my cold caps on, I made the decision to go public, posting a picture on Instagram and Facebook, detailing how my life had drastically changed. And to my surprise, I didn't receive pity. If anyone thought of me differently, it was in a positive way. I was told how brave I was. How strong. How fearless. How positive. People offered prayers and well wishes. I leaned on other people for support who have also gone through cancer because I needed to know that I would come out on the other side. Because I didn't actually feel brave, or strong, or fearless. The only thing I desperately clung to was my positive outlook. I had to in order to survive everyday. 

So with that first public picture came this realization that I needed to go public about my experience with breast cancer. Not only so I could help other young women, but to give breast cancer a face. A name. To let people know that I'm a real person, and yes, it happens to women under 40. I wanted to be honest and open about every single struggle I was going through, but also taking time to celebrate the small victories. Being vulnerable is incredibly difficult, especially in the judgmental society we live in, but I needed people to hear my story. Letting go of the fear of being judged or labeled as weak or incapable was the best decision I've made. Being public about my cancer has helped me heal in a way that I don't think anything else ever could have. 

It has also opened several doors for me. Learning about Barbells for Boobs and fundraising to help young women and men get access to screenings. Traveling to the Young Survival Coalition Symposium and meeting Z from BFB and getting to train with her. Having my pictures be used in national campaigns for the YSC and BCO to spread awareness about breast cancer in young women. A video of mine being used for the YSC to offer advice to young breast cancer patients. Writing an incredibly raw and heartbreaking account of my experience with IVF and cancer and having it be published. Advocating for Barbells for Boobs and raising awareness. Possibly getting featured for an amazing cancer organization within the CrossFit community.. 

But the most amazing thing that has happened has been receiving messages like the ones below. It has reminded me that what I say makes an impact. My small voice is being heard. And if I can change even just one person's life, then that makes it all worth it.

I'm being published!

About a month and a half ago, Alicia and I were lounging about her apartment. She was working, and I was reading on my kindle and also playing and snuggling with Sam, the dog that she and her roommate were watching that week. I needed a distraction, and to just be anywhere but my house, and Alicia offered her couch, despite her having to work. I promised not to distract her.

If it's not yet clear from my writing about her, I love, adore, and admire Alicia immensely. She once sent me an e-card for my birthday that said "Happy birthday to a friend of a friend that I now like more than the original friend." She's been with me through several relationships, watched me grow as a person, engaged with me in doorstop banditry (I know you're reading this, and this seriously needs to be revived), and she's still loved me along the way. In fact, when I first told her about my diagnosis, she sent me this long, heartfelt email of things she thought I should do at the start of my experience with cancer, offering her company whenever needed. She even took me up on my offer to sit in with me at one of my chemo sessions, getting to witness me looking like Strawberry Shortcake with the cold caps on my head.

But, I digress. At this lounge day at her apartment, every now and again, we'd talk about my writing. I admitted that I wanted to do something with it, but I didn't know where to start. On more than one occasion in the past, I've said to her, "I'm not a writer." and every single time, she counters with, "Whether you think you are or not, you're a writer." Alicia is an incredibly talented writer. I've followed her various blogs ever since I've known her. We share this passion for the written word that I think bonds us together in a way that only other bibliophiles could understand. We also have this intense love of love that makes us complete kindred spirits. So, this afternoon hangout that slowly whispered its way into evening, had us very minimally brainstorming what I could do with my writing. We didn't really come up with a solution that night, but a few days later, she emailed me a link to a writing contest. It was being put on by Bay Area Cancer Connections, a nonprofit for women facing breast and ovarian cancer based in Menlo Park, and it was a call for essays about your cancer experience. This was the perfect place to start, right?

But as soon as this opportunity was in front of me, I got cold feet. Having to relive the fears, anxiety, pain, heartbreak, and frustration of the last 8 months suddenly seemed terrifying. I spent the first few months of my experience trying to compartmentalize it from the rest of my life, choosing to act as though it was just a thing I was dealing with rather than a major life event. Then I embraced it, admitting that it was something that I couldn't ignore, and wanted to find a way to make an impact. I would attempt to write something, and then stop. A paragraph here, a sentence there. Alicia would check in on me to see if I'd made any progress, and I continued to promise her I'd send something soon. Finally, I decided to sit down and just write. I typed and typed until I hit 1,000 words, and then I sent it to her. But, within an hour, I emailed her again, saying that I felt like what I'd written was too vague. I tried to condense my ENTIRE cancer story in a measly two pages. I told her it seemed like maybe I needed to be more focused on perhaps just one issue that had come my way through treatment - relationships, sex and dating, body image, egg harvesting, and mortality, to name a few. I knew in my heart which topic would be the most interesting, but I asked Facebook instead. And, of course, they chose the topic that I wanted to write about the least. It was the most personal, the most heartbreaking because of what happened to me during the decision process, but, it was the most real. My experience with IVF. And what's real is what's interesting. It's never been my goal to sugarcoat my cancer experience. Being raw and real is what makes me who I am. And it's a topic many people don't talk about.

So, again, I put off writing about the topic, because my heart ached every time I even thought about my experience with egg harvesting. The back and forth of trying to make the decision. The anxiety I felt at the instructive class on how to administer injections - with my mom there by my side. Desperately missing the security and support of a partner. But, the deadline was fast approaching, and I didn't want to follow my past (in where I'd say I wanted to do something, but I'd let the opportunity pass me by because I was too afraid). I was going to submit something to this contest. So, I finally started typing again. It was hard to do, because I could tell the story about my IVF experience a thousand different ways, and it would be a different story every time. I sent off my draft to Alicia, and she artfully edited it in a way, that when I read her revisions, I cried as if I was reading someone else's story. But, it was mine, just made so much more raw and real by Alicia's talented hand.

I found out yesterday that my piece WON the contest! At first I was excited, and then I started to down talk myself, thinking "The only reason they picked mine is because no one else submitted anything." But, I realized that wasn't a nice thing to say about myself, so I let that thought go. And so what if that's the truth, I'm still going to be published! My submission will be published in the Bay Area Cancer Connections September newsletter, and I'll be doing a reading of the piece at Kepler's books on September 1 at 7pm.

This is just a small step in the right direction to trying to turn something negative into a positive. I couldn't be more thrilled! Keep an eye out for a post with the submission that won.

And to my dearest, darlingest Alicia - you astonish me at every turn. Your love for life, for love, for words, and your passion for wanting to help others find and follow their dreams are just small parts of what make you so incredibly amazing. From our doorstop banditry days, to you bringing me cookies after I just had my heart broken (or more like put into a meat grinder. that's probably a more apt description), you've been through so many of life's important moments by my side, and I can't believe I've had the pleasure to call you a close friend for almost a decade. I wouldn't change any of it, except maybe less heartbreaks for both of us. I love you with my whole heart. Thank you for turning my words into something amazing.