This post is not a brain dump, but more of a heart spill. Sometimes I share things and later feel like I have been too transparent. There are some things I should probably keep to myself…I have shared so much of my journey publicly. But then I think back to posts that I have published and the people who have reached out to me to tell me that they related to what I wrote. They were helped in some way by the words that I typed. So I’m just going to write and we will see what happens.
No hair, no makeup, no filter.
This past Thursday was my last chemo. I haven’t left my bedroom in 5 days. This round has hit the very hardest. When I am sick like this, I feel the lowest. Constant nausea, bone pain, headaches and stomach cramping. I have no choice but to be still, think, cry and reflect. Since I don’t have the strength to leave my room, I sat by my window this morning. A month before I was diagnosed with HER2 positive breast cancer I bought a wind chime. I just stared out the window and watched it. I listened to it as it blew in the wind, and it made me smile. No matter how yucky I feel on the inside right now—looking out that window made me look forward to feeling better. I can’t wait to spend time out on my back patio again. Reading, listening to that wind chime, grilling dinner and watching my kids swim and play in the backyard.
Windows give us hope. They let us see out, when we can’t see a way.
I loathe being single. It sucks. THERE, I said it. I am attributing my loathing to the fact that I have been in committed relationships since I was 19 years old. I have never been single for very long as an adult. Ever.
Like many women, when I was a little girl I daydreamed about the husband I would do life with. Someone to raise children with, go to church with, watch TV and go on dates with. You know…the quintessential relationship with a spouse that adored me and a family of my own. I may have had the relationships, but the quintessential part—not so much. I’m not without fault in those relationships, but being single right now wasn’t my choice. It is hard enough to go from married to single with no warning, but going through cancer without a spouse’s shoulder to cry on has been a very lonely place for me. Even with so many surrounding and supporting me. What this season has taught me is that I can’t depend on someone to do life with for my happiness. Unfortunately, my journey to health isn’t just fighting breast cancer, it’s fighting my old way of doing things as well. I have to learn to accept a different kind of love in the form of support from friends and family—and allow God to fill the loneliness. I have to learn to like being single before I can even think about another relationship.
I don’t like it…but I’ll do it because I have to.
Recently, one of my girlfriends was describing a person who came into my life at the start of my cancer journey as a “people mover”. When I asked for a definition, she explained to me that people movers help you move on. They can help you move away from a bad situation, or move forward toward something better. The problem with people movers is that in most cases they are only in our lives temporarily. I have never been equipped to handle temporary relationships. I connect quickly and get hurt when someone decides to move on. This definition made me realize I have had many friendships with people movers, but I have never really learned from them. I may see warning signs and try to pump the brakes, but I have a hard time accepting reality and protecting myself from the hurt that’s sure to come. My most recent people mover helped me move away from a bad situation AND I am headed toward something better in the future. A two for one, and for that I am grateful. Although painful, the moving on forced me to a place where I had no choice but to do some heavy thinking, praying and self evaluation. I realized that I am way too sensitive at times, I believe entirely too much of what I hear when it may not be sincere, I settle for much less than what I deserve and I give too much which allows people to take advantage of me. A hard pill to swallow indeed. But I will have better boundaries and make better decisions now thanks to my most recent people mover.
Sometimes, people are only in our lives for a season. They may not be willing or able to give back what we would give to them. I am learning to be okay with that and move on! So a little advice from me, if you ever enter (and exit) a relationship with a people mover, I suggest that you take the good with you and leave the bad behind. I have so many fond memories of my friendships with people movers—and that is how I will choose to remember them.
Letting go isn’t always a bad thing…sometimes it’s the only way to move forward.