Facing Fear on the Water
My token phrase during many of the experiences I had on my trip with First Descents was: this is so out of my comfort zone, this is so out of my realm. First Descents is one of our fellow YA organizations of support that are dedicated to “providing life-changing outdoor adventures for young adults impacted by cancer.” So for me, going on a trip that was focused around whitewater kayaking and rafting was life-changing all on its own.
Until this trip, I had never even been camping in a tent much less kayaked in whitewater rapids. After battling non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma and struggling to return to normal physically, I needed something to remind myself that I could have faith in my body. I needed to believe in my body again. For the past year and a half I have felt that it has betrayed me. The very core of my blood carried this malignant destruction and turned mutiny on me. My faith in my physical self had been shattered.
I needed to believe in myself again. I needed to feel strong.
This was my main focus for signing up for this trip. Despite my fears, hesitations, and zero experience in the outdoors I went for it. And I’m so glad I did.
I discovered fears and uncovered knowledge about myself that I never knew before. I stared down the face of paralyzing fear and overcame it. And I felt so much stronger for it. While my battle with cancer became my mental mantra, “You fought cancer… this is nothing,” the experiences on the river awakened the core of my soul. I understand the way fear works in myself even better than I did before. I made the choice on my own to conquer that fear rather than facing a fear that I felt powerless in. And because of that, I felt powerful.
I know now that there will always be fear. What comes on the other side is worth it despite this, so very worth it, if you can just paddle your way there.
As cancer fighters, we know fear. We know it so well that even the memories of this fear can leave us paralyzed. At least how it has felt for me this past year while I have struggled with P.T.S.D., extreme neuropathy, menopause, and cancer relapse scares. Even before cancer, I always let fear hold me back from trying new experiences. Now that I have embraced my fear, I know how to handle it and overcome.
Kayaking gave me back a physical dignity that I thought cancer had taken from me. The neuropathy in my legs do not matter in a kayak. My insecurities about my lack of strength were washed away as I managed to keep finding that reserve of power and tap into it even in the most exhausted of moments. The thrill of carrying myself through class III rapids and coming out on the end of it exhilarated and free was life changing for me.
All of this, combined with the amazing experience of being surrounded by other YA cancer fighters/thrivers, was the healing experience I needed so desperately. For one glorious week, I was not the girl that had cancer. I was not pitied for my circumstances nor put on a pedestal for them. I was embraced by people that believed in me even when I thought I couldn’t. That wouldn’t let me give up in the face of fear.
Support for YA cancer fighters is so important. We’ve said it once and we’ll keep saying it again. Organizations like First Descents and Stupid Cancer are crucial in a world that isolates our demographic on such a consistent basis.
Today I went back to the river as I face another hurdle in my (apparently) never ending cancer journey. I feel rejuvenated and reminded that fear is just a barrier to be torn down. There will always be fear and on the water I was reminded that what’s on the other side is worth the journey. That I am strong and I can face what comes around the river bend.
Note: All kayaking puns were completely intentional and crucial for this blog post.
