Maybe (some musings from Chemo Holly)

We all know the sayings: Everything happens for a reason! Life is what happens when you’re busy making other plans! If you want to make God laugh, tell Him about your plans!

Well, guess what? I had plans. For example, I had planned to be a mom. I had planned to be a wife. I had planned to be an actress… I had specific things for my life I wanted. But the major ones have not come to pass, and some of them may not now, due to side effects of chemo, and a little thing called timing. Many things may now be too late for me. This knowledge, and eventual acceptance, has often times been very devastating to me. So, sometimes, all those saying piss me off. But other times, I start to see that maybe there’s something to them. Maybe there is a reason I have to go through this. Maybe God (or the Universe, or Higher Self, or whatever you want to call it) has His own plans for me. Maybe, just maybe, there actually IS a reason and a plan.

Maybe I never had biological children, and may not now be able to, because that way, I won’t pass the BRCA gene mutation on to them, and I won’t have children who would have to go through this hell.

Maybe I’m not married yet because no man would have shown up and stuck by me and taken care of me in the insanely amazing way the man I started dating only one year prior to my diagnosis is.

I jumped ship before I was able to see if I could make it as an actress, because I was too afraid to fail and of what other people thought. So, maybe this is happening to allow me to not live in fear anymore of what other people will think, or fear that I’ll fail… and to not look for outside validation, for validation from anywhere other than myself.

Maybe this is happening to make me realize my true value. So much of my life, I only thought I was worth how I looked. But when looks are taken away, you’re forced to see your true self. And gosh darn it, I kinda like her!

Maybe I’m going through this to really learn, grasp, experience, and understand what unconditional love actually is.

Maybe this happened to allow me to be grateful for every single thing. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate things like doing laundry, putting the dishes away, going for walks, grocery shopping, seeing my friends, going out to dinner with man, etc., when I feel well… It’s like I’m on happy pills, not even kidding!

Maybe this happened so that I can have the close relationship with my sister I’ve always craved. I’m so happy we’re close now.

Maybe this happened so I can have even an ounce of understanding of how hard it was for my mom to go through her own cancer over 20 years ago. And also so that I get to spend so much time with her.

Maybe this happened so I can learn to receive. I have been overwhelmed by the kindness, support, and generosity of those I know well, those I haven’t seen or talked to in many years, and complete strangers. Here’s where I say I am seriously hashtag blessed.

Before my diagnosis, I had been stuck wondering what was next for me, creatively, in my writing or my acting. Maybe this happened to give me inspiration and motivation.

Maybe I haven’t had (or adopted) children yet because that way they don’t have to see me go through this…. And maybe because the souls that are meant to be my children, who will just happen to come from someone else’s body, haven’t been born yet.

Or maybe I’m not supposed to have or adopt any children, and the reason for that will one day be revealed.

Maybe this happened so I could learn that I am more than just my boobs; I’m not going to lie — my breasts pumped up my self-esteem for years, when I thought validation came only in the way of male sexual attention. Now, my boobs will be taken away, and I’m forced to see that I am worthy and wonderful and special just because I’m me, not because of my boobs. And, hey! Guess what? I’m lovable even without a great rack!

Maybe this happened so I could learn the true meaning of friendship and family. There is nothing like going through cancer to show you who your true friends are (or aren’t). Surprisingly, some of them are people who I haven’t seen or talked to for many many many years. It’s kind of amazing.

Maybe this happened so I can realize I am stronger than I ever thought I was.

Maybe this happened so that instead of living in a constant fear of recurrence, I can learn to just be present and live in each moment.

Maybe this happened so I could realize how lucky I am to have the job that I do. I have a whole new appreciation for it, and for the support they are giving me.

Maybe this happened so I could stop being a people pleaser, and be my own advocate first and foremost… and not care if I’m a pain in the ass if it means I’m standing up for myself.

Maybe this happened so I can learn that it’s ok to ask for help and let people do things for me.

A lot of the time, I don’t have the energy to do much of anything, and this has caused me a lot of stress and frustration; maybe this happened so that I could learn to be ok doing nothing. I’ve always thought I had to DO something or BE someone in order to be special, or loved. But I don’t. I just have to be me.

Maybe this happened to learn that nothing is permanent, and as sick or awful as I feel in a certain moment, it will pass. Everything will pass.

In my deepest moments of despair for what I think I’ve lost because of cancer, I try to hold onto the fact that maybe, just maybe, there really is a greater reason for all of this… and that at end of it, I will have actually ended up gaining.