Picture Perfect

For so long the goal was picture perfect because I believed doing less would be a disappointment. I didn’t deserve full credit if things weren’t done correctly. I needed to work hard and not be lazy. Admitting to slacking off or selfishly spending money on myself, for something I did not need, would diminish other’s opinions of me. Many times I lied, to cover for doing such self-serving things. It wasn’t okay to disappoint people.

In turn, the opposite was also true. If I worked hard and excelled, was responsible and didn’t complain or disappoint, then awful things would not happen. I was protecting myself, those I love and my future. The formula had worked all through my childhood and adulthood. It was insurance to keep everyone safe.

Hearing the words ‘you have cancer’ shattered the façade in a heartless way. The destruction of my false sense of security was swift and cruel. I didn’t experience denial or sadness. Only overwhelming fear. Fear of not being able to protect Tanner from the pain of losing a parent too young. Fear of suffering and losing my health. I was forced to accept that my assumption I would live to an old age was also a façade. Cancer was relentless in reminding me that I could not prevent bad things through self control. Each day since hearing the words I have given up more control. I have given up more assumptions and the false security.

After submitting to the terror and grieving for my long-held dreams, I began the process of rebuilding courage, one frightening experience at a time. I still have days where fatigue and anxiety draw me back into darkness and doubt, but they happen less frequently as time goes on. These days I don’t think very often of the future and am less burdened because I no longer follow my safe rituals as before. I can see and feel things with innocence again, as I did as a child. I am grateful for this second chance to feel contentedness.