This Is Life
So, it’s been awhile since I’ve blogged. My last post was in March 2016 and my port had just been removed. That seems like a lifetime ago and yesterday all at the same time. There have been so many days when I’ve thought to myself, “that would make a great blog post” but by the time I got home, the motivation was gone and I’d just watch Scandal instead.
I just got back from a weekend retreat in the north bay called “This Is Life,” where I spent 48 hours with young adult cancer survivors, all of whom were total strangers to me when I arrived. It was put on by Project Koru, the same organization that did the surf camp I went to in Maui in April 2016. They’re doing amazing things for the young adult cancer community, and if you’re looking for somewhere to donate your hard earned dollars, they’re a worthy cause.
The weekend was broken up into several workshops, and everyone was assigned a different track based on what you indicated you were interested in in a survey that was sent out before the retreat. My schedule consisted of topics ranging from nutrition and the new normal, to late effects and tips for coping. I also had a couple gorgeous hikes added in, as well as a creative writing workshop. I met some of the most amazing people with all different types of cancer. Breast, ovarian, leukemia, brain, thyroid … all of it so present and so unfair. We laughed, cried, talked about some of our fucked up side effects, how our life is so different than it used to be, and how we have a hard time recognizing that person who looks back at us in the mirror every day.
Retreats like this are healing for my soul, and I realized I need to do this more often. I have an amazing support system in my day to day life. I couldn’t ask for a better, more loving husband, and the rest of my family and friends are the best of the best. But being around people who just get it, people who I can be completely open and vulnerable with, people who I believe when they say, “I know what you mean” is invaluable. I leave weekends like this feeling so many things … refreshed yet exhausted, joyus but on the verge of tears, terrified while being excited for what my future holds. It’s hard to explain, but the magic that happens when a bunch of young adult cancer survivors get together to share their stories is pretty fucking special.
My last session of the weekend was a creative writing class and the instructor started by handing everyone a piece of paper with an outline of a body drawn on it. She told us to color it in however we wanted - we could do designs, solid colors, stay in the lines or go crazy outside the lines. Once we were done with our coloring, we used that to inspire our first piece of writing. The prompt she gave us for that first piece was to write as if our body were telling us something, and she suggested we start off the piece with, “What I want to say to you is …”
Here’s what I wrote:
“What I want to say to you is …
I am different than before, but that doesn’t mean I’m not beautiful or worthy of love.
I am covered in scars but they’re all part of my story, a roadmap of what I’ve been through.
I am sore, and tired, and broken. But I am hopeful and resilient.
I am unique.
I am more than just cancer.
I am a daughter, a sister, a wife, an auntie, a confidant, a best friend, a terrible dancer, a lover of wine and good food, an adventure seeker, a reality tv junkie, a bit too sarcastic for my own good, really good at my job, a secret keeper, a shoulder to cry on, and most of all, a total badass.”
Xo,
Ali