The ‘Soulshine’ title is symbolic of the inner light, joy, and resilience that comes from deep within a person’s spirit, especially during or following hard times.
Difficult times don’t define us. They arise and remind us Of who we are at our core, And what we are made of. They don’t happen to make us bitter. I believe they arrive to make us better; Humble reminders of what matters most, They ground us, and renew our compassion And grace for one another, and the battles we face- And they have the ability to make our souls shine, And radiate so much bigger and brighter- If only we have the courage to keep our hearts Open – to the possibility.
This painting celebrates the vibrancy of life, And the light that radiates outward – even in the aftermath.
This is me back in June of 2013. Age 36. Boy was I proud of her! This was one of those moments I will relish for my entire life. This photo was taken after the very first race I ever ran; Steamboat’s half-marathon (13.1 beautiful miles on a long and winding road right into the heart of downtown). Crossing that finish line made me feel like I was on top of the world; like I could conquer anything and everything! It felt like winning the lottery, but what I went through to get me to this day, were some of my darkest, and hardest moments that I wouldn’t wish on anyone.
Let me back up a little. It was the summer of 2012. My husband and I had been married for 12 years, and were the proud parents of two amazing kids, ages four and eight, with a little one on the way. This pregnancy was an unexpected blessing, and we were all feeling the excitement. I heard the heartbeat at 12 weeks, and it was strong, and beautiful. My daughter and I heard it again at 16 weeks, but my blood pressure was rising with time. A doctor prescribed me high blood pressure meds over the phone, and I reluctantly started on them the very next day. I hated the way this medicine made me feel. And worse then that, I grew increasingly concerned about the effects of it on our growing baby. I made a long list of concerns for our next appointment which would be our 19 week gender ultrasound. It couldn’t arrive soon enough, and it would become a day that would change our lives forever.
August 9, 2012 was a beautiful, and bright, sunshiny day! Our 8 year old daughter, Kaia, was hopeful to find out she would be getting a baby sister. Our 4 year old son, Korbin, was of course hoping for a little brother. We were giggling as we placed bets on what it would be just before leaving the house. To see Kaia beaming with so much excitement made my heart overflow with love and gratitude. It was uncontainable and contagious. It was such an exciting time that we went as a whole family even inviting my mom along for the fun.
The energy of the ultrasound room felt electric as the technician began to scan my growing belly. We couldn’t wait to see if we were having a boy or a girl. Our eyes were glued to the screen and then to the technician’s face unable to understand what we were looking at. As the minutes passed, I watched her expression slowly shift, and felt my heart beginning to race. The whole energy of the room suddenly took a dark turn. My body tensed up as I did my best to read between the lines. It was clear that something very serious was happening. My mom quickly gathered up our kids and exited the room quietly at the technician’s offer. What came next was every parent’s worst nightmare. I can’t find a heartbeat. Your baby has died.
I chose to deliver our baby the next day without the use of any pain meds because I wanted to be fully present in honoring the life that once was. I can’t explain why I chose this path as some might see it as unnecessary. What I can tell you, is, there is no right or wrong way to handle a loss of this magnitude. I can only tell you that I followed my heart and chose the path that felt right within my own spirit. It was the only option that made me feel some sort of peace of mind in my newly shattered heart.
The next day felt like the unfolding of a living nightmare. My husband, Toby, and I checked into the maternity ward where I was induced. I went through normal labor pains all day while doing my best to mentally prepare for delivery knowing it would be goodbye. Hearing the bell when other healthy babies were being born added salt to our wounds. The deep, guttural sobbing that came from the depths of my soul as our baby was born, felt far too heavy for anyone to bear. Dason Albert Childers was born sleeping on August 10, 2012 at 4:30 pm. He had all 10 fingers, and 10 toes, and was without a doubt a little baby boy, who was now our beautiful angel up in heaven.
The days that followed were a blur. I’m sure the sun was shining but I sure couldn’t feel it. The days felt dark, and heavy, and long. I would sleep and awake to thoughts and physical feelings of still being pregnant, and then having to relive the nightmare over and over once it registered that I no longer was. There were too many tears to count. I was struggling on so many different levels. Since it was baby number three, my body was ready to feed a baby and I had no baby to nurse. Postpartum depression set in, and this was the most depressed I had ever felt, and the extra baby weight I had gained didn’t help. I knew my body would eventually heal, but I wasn’t certain my heart ever would.
One week after I delivered our son, I had a follow-up appointment with my midwife at the same place where we found out our son had died. Sitting in the same waiting area surrounded by expecting moms felt like torture. My midwife was concerned that my blood pressure was still high. I felt like reminding her of the trauma I was reliving by coming back, but I didn’t have the energy to explain it. I was doing everything in my power just to hold myself together without bursting into a puddle of tears. She went on to tell me that I would likely have high blood pressure issues for the rest of my life. She also expressed that the only way to really ever get over a loss like this, was to have another baby. As I look back on this, I’m still not sure if I would describe her words as, “the truth hurts” or “completely out of line”, but I am grateful, and I do know this … she lit a fire in me that still burns today.
After 6 weeks post-delivery, I was finally cleared for exercise. I had two young kids to raise, and my body was healed good enough to get moving. I was on a mission of proving my midwife wrong, so I started going to Jenni’s strength training bootcamp with fellow moms and friends with kids. I remember showing up in ratty, super uncool gym clothes, and a pair of 10 year-old Nike athletic shoes that barely fit. They were more like plastic than rubber by this point, but it’s what I had at the time, and it was enough to get the job done. Jenni’s bootcamp was a godsend. It got me out of bed each morning and helped me to get out of my head and distracted me from my broken heart. After strength training at Namaqua Park, some of the moms would head over to the TVHS track and jog. They invited me to tag along one day and I giggled in response. I certainly wasn’t a runner in any way, shape or form, but I gladly joined in, and did what my out-of-shape body was capable of doing. I started walking and jogging really short distances. It didn’t take much to take my breath away in the beginning. As uncomfortable as it was, for some reason, I just kept going. And I continued going without much more thought. I wasn’t ever focused on how hard it was or how out of breath I was. I was just so grateful to be socializing with moms who were quickly becoming great friends all while our young kids got to hang out and play. Whether they knew it at the time or not, these women were carrying me through one of the darkest periods of my life.
Fast forward about a month and a half. I showed up to Namaqua Park early that day needing to fill my mind with something other than the sadness that haunted me. I arrived before everyone else, and decided to start jogging around the perimeter of the park to get warmed up. I was about seven laps in, and realized I could still breathe. I was in total awe. Maybe it was my first runner’s high? I have no idea, but I was the kid who didn’t like to run growing up because it would kick up my asthma, and make me wheeze. I was the young adult who had her right knee reconstructed twice from skiing and softball, and was advised to maybe take up golf. I was the person who couldn’t understand why anyone, in their right mind, would want to run. And here I was jogging and someone still breathing. In that moment, everything changed for me. I accidentally, and unintentionally fell head over heels in love with running.
Jogging grew to feel like some kind of super power. It was slowly becoming my super power; my fight song. And I just kept going. I would push through the uncomfortable moments when I wanted to quit, and I would shove every excuse I wanted to give into the backseat, and I kept going with every extra step I could muster. I think I can. I think I can. Before I knew it, I could jog four laps (1 mile) around the track without stopping. The excitement I felt with every small victory kept me going back for more. I tried to add a little distance each time I went or I would sprint, walk, and repeat. Slowly, I grew stronger over time. Slowly, I ran further over time. I’ll never forget the day I conquered 12 laps (3 miles) around the track without stopping. Almost a 5k. For me, that moment was HOLY SHIT!!! Here I was, 36 years old, new to jogging, and I remember thinking to myself, “there’s no way I just did that!!”. Talk about runner’s high. I was absolutely hooked. Hook, line, and sinker.
Running became the place where I could go anytime I needed to cry, pray, and to be with the son we lost. It was my therapy, and it quickly became my joy, my empowerment, rebuilding me physically and mentally from the ground up. If I woke up feeling depressed, I knew I just needed to go run and then I could be the mom I wanted to be for our kids. Running somehow physically altered the chemistry in my brain. After almost every jog, I felt more hopeful, more capable, happier, and less broken. I wanted to show our kids what a healthy coping skill for sadness could look like. On Thanksgiving morning that year, I ran 19 laps and dedicated every one to Dason who was born at 19 weeks. I felt him all around me. I always did. And I felt God carrying me through the darkness and showing me tiny glimpses of light and the rainbow waiting for me on the other side. Running made me feel alive again. I could feel the thumping of my heartbeat loud and strong, and the air I was breathing somehow became rhythmic, meditative and soul-soothing, I was healing emotionally with every step I took. It released the physical pain I felt so deep inside my heart that the tears I cried could never seem to reach. Running had this innate way of absolutely kicking my ass, and yet somehow, making me also feel the thrill of overcoming some huge victory all at the same time. It always left me feeling like maybe I could conquer anything!
Fast forward to March of 2013. My bootcamp friends were talking about a weekend in Steamboat to run in a race and enjoy a girl’s weekend away. Some moms were planning on running the full marathon. Some, the half marathon, and others, the 10k, but they were all going together in support of one another. I’ll never forget the moment they invited me to go along. Their gift made me feel this depth of gratitude that words will never be able to express. I was beyond grateful, eager, excited, absolutely terrified, but never more motivated or determined. I really didn’t know what I was getting myself into. I just knew that I wanted to honor our son by running a race for him, and I wanted to make it big, and I needed it to be a challenge. I decided on the half-marathon, and I was giddy with excitement.
One week before the race, we were strength training in preparation, and the unthinkable happened. I rolled my ankle good and hard. I felt it pop and my mind went numb. I couldn’t believe my luck, but I wasn’t willing to throw in the towel. I had been training so hard and this race and this trip meant everything to me. I decided to do everything in my power to help it heal as quickly as I could. I went to my chiropractor at that time, and had him adjust my ankle so it could heal as quickly as possible. Boy did that adjustment hurt like a … beep! He had me icing my ankle in an ice bucket 2-3 times a day for 10 minutes each time. I did it faithfully, and applied arnica inbetween treatments doing my best to heal.
The morning of the race on June 6, 2013, I awoke early and my nerves were off the charts. I brought along an ankle brace for the extra support, but knew right away that it wasn’t going to work. I decided to leave it behind, and I planned to just listen to my body that day. If I couldn’t do it, the volunteers would just have to drive me back into town – and that was that.
I’ll never forget the 13.1 mile bus ride from downtown Steamboat. What on earth was I thinking?! I thought it would never end. Turn after turn and mile after mile. Further and further from town. The thought of having to run that distance back was absolutely terrifying and completely daunting. Getting off the bus and standing in this massive line with a bunch of people waiting for the race to start was exciting, and completely overwhelming. My nerves had me shaking like a leaf. I did my best to stretch, and felt happy and relieved to be distracted by friends with moments of nervous laughter, and last minute photos as we waited anxiously to get started. And then the time had come. I put my ear buds in, turned my running playlist on, and thought to myself, “just jog slowly and see how your ankle feels, and if it feels okay, and strong enough, just keep running, and don’t stop for anything.” I melted right into meditation mode, and found my happy pace. I was in my zone, and I just kept running. The scenery was incredible. The people cheering us on along the way made me grin from ear to ear. Here I was doing it! The pit stops with water, electrolytes and a popcicle close to the end were such an awesome mental boost. The sun was warm. The mountains and hills were breathtaking. My soul felt totally at ease. I felt Dason with me in my heart and all around me in spirit. I felt God smiling down as I continued to forge ahead. I ran every bit of the 13.1 miles back into town that day and crossed that finish line with the biggest smile on my face! Pace doesn’t matter. Finishing does. And then I got to put the most beautiful medal around my neck. It wasn’t what it looked like. It was everything it represented. I came and I conquered. I was on cloud nine. It wasn’t just a race. It was SO much more. And I did it surrounded by some of the most amazing women I have ever met, and I will cherish those moments and that weekend for my entire lifetime. I became a person I never thought I could or would be. I accidentally became a runner. In honor of our son. For my health. For our kids. For this beautiful life, and to be here for as long as I can for them. And because God placed the right people in my life, at the right time, to help me rise up after my world went dark.
I will never be able to express my gratitude to Dason, to God, and to all the amazing women who were a part of setting me on the path of becoming a runner. They took me under their wings when I was broken, and taught me how to fly. And they had no idea then, how much I would continue to need that inner strength in the years to come.
Jogging has helped carry me through a 6-month marriage separation, a 2nd miscarriage, loss of loved ones, our third child, postpartum complications, and more recently breast cancer, chemotherapy, and multiple surgeries. I often feel like the queen of starting over and beginning again … but jogging has become my super power. It reminds me of my inner strength, my why, and what matters most. It’s my favorite fight song, and I will continue running until my legs no longer can.
You are stronger & more capable than you realize! Keep your heart open, and be willing to push through the uncomfortable moments. That’s where the growth begins. If you have the courage to go there, you will undoubtably grow there! Keep going, and don’t ever give up!
I’m learning… What it is to have an Extreme duality of emotions In cancer survivorship. And that it’s okay To acknowledge and accept it Fully. Deeply. And honestly.
I am a breast cancer Survivor. I’m currently In remission- I have really great days- Where I feel confident, Positive. Hopeful. A small piece Of the carefree Light-hearted version of me. And yet- I still go through darkness. Really difficult times That feel extremely Isolating, depressing, And incredibly lonely.
I wouldn’t wish these days On anyone I love. It’s a very challenging Place to be. It feels like no one around me Really gets me- Not anymore. Not really. And I don’t want to drop the heavy On anyone around me. I’m happy they Don’t feel how I feel, But my spirit sure Longs for someone Who did- In these moments When I feel so sad and conflicted.
I feel guilty for feeling Ungrateful- When I know I should be thankful Because I’m still living- And I am- I feel both.
I’m beyond grateful – And I’m utterly heartbroken. I’m so angry- And I’m also glad. I’m so gracious for my body- For fighting And healing- And winning, so far- And I absolutely hate it. It makes me cry, And it makes me mad When I look in the mirror And remember What I used to have.
I’m learning Slowly. That it is completely okay To feel the extremes together- To grieve and to celebrate In the same conflicting breath. Because- As a cancer survivor- Every new day, Is another attempt To confront, sit with, and be okay With whatever this day’s Current emotion is.
My six-month breast cancer Check-up last Friday With my oncologist- Turned into seven because I forgot. I forgot to schedule it Because I was so busy living- And the forgetting, for me, Was a blessing… Because remembering – is a lot!
Before this day came, I was unbothered and untroubled. After all, this was just another normal Follow-up doctor’s appointment I needed to go to. But when I was pulling into The Harmony Cancer Center that day, My mood suddenly shifted. I felt a heaviness welling up inside my heart. I was taken aback. And these emotions Caught me completely off guard.
As I walked into the cancer center, I looked around at all the people present Waiting for their name to be called, As I patiently waited in line To be checked in for mine. Some wore hats To cover their balding heads from chemo. Some sat alone in silence Staring out the windows At the falling snow and gray skies. While others sat with their spouses And filled their waiting time With comforting words, Loving nudges and a bit of normalcy. Today, the cancer center was busy, And bustling.
I was a mixed bag Of so many different emotions… Bouncing, in real-time, From one right into the next. I stood trying to wrap my head around The complexity of all that I was feeling. And what I was feeling Felt heavy and intense.
I meandered around And found a chair that offered Bright colored landscapes on the wall In front of me to get lost in, And large windows close by To see the beautiful tree outside- That was somehow grounding. And something I found comfort in.
And I sat alone in silence, Sipping my hot coffee With honey and cinnamon- Reflecting, observing And remembering the journey That landed me in this space. The traumas still come back To haunt me from time to time. Like today. Coming back was a trigger I wasn’t prepared for in any way.
My grief is still present, Though not as often as it once was. And my sadness still lingers. Though most of it, I have chosen to let go of. But all that I felt was a reminder That I am still healing From all that I endured. That I am not done processing Everything I’ve been through. And I’m still hoping for one day, a cure. I’m healing slowly, but surely And that’s okay. Little bit by little bit, Over an extended time… Because healing never happens Overnight.
When my name was called, I stood tall and followed my nurse Like a robot going through the motions. Weight and height check- Followed by my vitals and questions Around depression and how I’m managing. Overall, I feel a sense of pride For getting through and to Where I’m at today. That said, I still have moments Where I struggle to accept My new normal as being okay.
After my nurse left, and as I sat waiting For my oncologist to arrive, I snapped this photo of myself Because it’s a moment To be celebrated. This was my high-five. I felt happy and grateful To still be here- To still be alive.
But when I look at This photo of myself, I see every emotion I was feeling And sitting with, Even though I thought I was hiding it. I see everything That tugged at my heart that day. I see happiness and inner peace. I see a deep sadness And a sense of unease. But I see immense gratitude- And a good attitude toward Being in remission– And I also see that I am not defined By one or the other. I see that I am all of them- Intertwined together… And a work-in-progress I will be– Forever.
Last night I stepped outside my norm and this is what came forward … along with a poem that came directly after. This is for any and all who need to hear the same.
“RELEASE”
Release the need For perfectionism. Let go of that Which cannot exist.
Instead- Color outside the lines With bold enthusiasm And lead with your love, Fire and grit.
Drop the comparisons. You are not them, And they are not you. Your journey is not theirs- Only yours is for you.
Live your life out loud With intention, And just be you. Reinvented you. Passionate you. Healing you. Unapologetically you. And be unafraid To let the world see The unmasked version Of you.
For you are beautiful. Just as you are- With every story, Every scar, Every facet, Every celebrated Imperfection. You are a force To be reckoned with.
Your truth Is your connection. It’s the red thread That unites us all Behind unspoken words. Speak up with courage. Your voice is your power And your story- Beckons to be heard.
Chase your joys. Follow your heart And be led by the things That ignite your light So deeply within.
For that IS Your purpose And a sign that The stars have aligned. That you are on your path- And your soul is ready To dive in.
I’m so proud of you For getting through Every hardship, Every battle, And every struggle That came from Every difficult storm You walked through.
I’m so proud of you For every part Of grief you Overcame. For moving through Every feeling You felt, For allowing Your heart to cry- As you Stoically, Quietly, Or powerfully, And painfully Wept.
I’m so proud- That when the timing Was just right for you, You chose To finally Let it all go. Let go of your pain, And suffering, The anger, And sorrow, And everything That no longer Served you- And in the same breath You decided To step outside of Your comfort zone. And you chose Joy and happiness. You chose to rise, and To spread your wings, In order to grow, And glow Into the new, Courageous, Powerful and Radiant YOU.
Shine your light bright For the whole wide world To see- And to feel. Choose to Love yourself A whole lot more, And a whole lot better… Please promise me You will. Please offer yourself Forgiveness, And allow yourself More grace- With even more space For love, compassion, And patience… For doing your best. For who you are And where you are- Right now At this very moment, And in this place. Because- You and I both know That this life isn’t easy! And I just wanted you to know- That I think you’re doing great!
It’s been a rough stretch- Mentally. I draw in a deep breath- As I feel the clouds Begin to lift. This darkness- Has felt so heavy. This grieving- Of who I was before- Cancer. And struggling To accept myself Unconditionally, As I am now- After. So much was lost, And I was happy With who I was. And I don’t yet see Anything That has been gained- Out of who I have become. If I’m being honest, Breast cancer Has made me feel Less like a woman, Weaker as a person, And so much more Sadness as a human. I would not wish this On anyone. I have been Profoundly humbled By my life journey. I understand The fragility of life, And the importance Of moments spent Both happy And hurting. I struggle to understand The purpose behind All that has been taken- And I would be lying If I said There weren’t moments Where I have felt Like I have been Forsaken. But I will forge ahead For my family- And do my best To hold my head high. And I will do so With as much strength And hope As I can find- Cancer has taken So much from me- But I will never Give it the power To define- The rest of my lifetime.
My belief is that God doesn’t Bring us to the fire- To watch us Go down in flames.
And He doesn’t Ship us out to sea To look on- As we’re swallowed By the giant waves.
And He doesn’t Send us into the eye Of any storm To punish us In such a way That we shall Never again- See the light of day.
My belief is that God brings us To the fire- To watch us grow Until that spark ignites. To look on As our potential Grows higher And higher, And to help us, To shine our new light.
And He ships us Out to sea So we can learn To navigate Uncharted waters, And gain new strength As we learn how to swim. And when we grow Tired and weary, He wants to remind us To go back to Seeking and Believing in Him.
And He sends us Into and through The eye of a storm To show us Our true character And what we’re made of. For us to prove To ourselves That we can be more Than we ever thought We could be- Despite the toughest Battles that fall At our feet.
He sees us- And knows our potential. He challenges us And believes in us Wholeheartedly- And in our ability To overcome Any obstacle We are faced with, In this life, All the way through- To the end.
And He looks on Lovingly As we rise up Again and again. Out of the fire- Out of the water- And on the other side Of every storm- As a better human With a bigger heart, More compassion, Understanding, And a lot less thorns.
I’ve grown To understand- There is great power In acceptance. By surrendering To your current reality, You free up Enormous space & energy. Stop fighting- A losing battle. Choose to rise up, And light- A brand new candle. Open your heart And your mind Toward new, Forward movement, And opportunities. This eye-opening Realization Will become- Your blossoming, Your purpose, Your new identity. It’s time to surrender, And finally let go- Of your anger, Bitterness, And sorrow. For holding on- Will only hold off Tomorrow. And fighting it Will only- Keep you stuck In your same old, Broken tracks. Pray for the courage To move on- In faith, and hope And for new possibilities. For the time has come- For you to take Your power back.
That moment when Your tired mind Can suddenly see- The world, And your current situation Through a completely Different lens.
That moment when- Your mind shifts, The clouds lift, And the sun comes out Welcoming you back home To your happiness- Right where you belong.
That moment when- The right words are spoken, And your world suddenly realigns, And begins To make some sort of sense – again. After having been in the dark For far too long.
That moment when- Gratitude sneaks back in, And kisses you Softly on the cheek. And you smile in return- From the inside, out- Remembering Just how sweet The littlest things in life Can be.
Life is An ebb and flow- Of change And letting go. A rearranging- Of old routines And goodbyes From what You used to know. And this- You MUST do In order to welcome The new you. You must Brace yourself- To embrace Your changed life, To see it all In a new light- In preparation For this new chapter, And a changing Of the tides… And you might find- That you admire The stronger you More than- You could have Ever imagined. I know that’s A tough realization To try and fathom… And that’s not to say- There won’t be days Where you miss The old you, And what used to be- See… We are human, And we seek comfort In the familiar. We love to reminisce In the days when we- Remember… Happiness, bliss, And laughter. We wish We could hold onto The precious moments We’ve captured- With our loved ones And friends. But this BIG life change Isn’t the end. We must find the courage To reinvent ourselves And our lives, And be willing to let go Of old familiarities- For growth happens When we refuse To give up so easily. We must strive To find and feel Adventure And excitement- In this newness. Taking in And feeling grateful for- Each moment And everything We’ve been blessed with. Change is so- HARD. Incredibly hard! Believe me, I get this. But if you can Learn to begin again… Your end Can blossom- Into something beautiful, Magical and meaningful. The end Of one chapter- Might just be The beginning Of a different kind of Happily ever after… Just keep going!
Dedicated to my kids … because life is never easy – and not without change. And because I want to make sure I pour my heart out in its entirety while I’m still here….And I want my words to continue speaking to their hearts long after I’m gone. 💛
“You CAN Overcome Anything”
The truth is You CAN handle Whatever comes your way- No matter how big Or how hard- The life change. You don’t handle Everything all at once- Or all in one day. You handle it In baby steps, And long, deep breaths. You handle it- Moment by moment. Just make the next Right decision- And do your best. Sometimes- You handle it- With tears and talks And late night texts. You handle it- With lots of hugs, And I love yous. You handle it- With naps and walks, Movies, ice cream, Self-care, laughing, Praying and gratitude. You handle it- With those Who have your back- At every turn. Just keep going… Lean into the change- And always- Learn. You handle it- Little bit by little bit. And as you begin To adjust to the changes- You can gradually Let go of the heaviness- Or the overbearing weight of it. And even if you never Fully get over it- You CAN get through it. You ARE strong enough. You ARE capable. And I believe- With all of my heart- That you CAN do it. I love you- With everything That I am- And for as long As I am able to… I promise To hold your heart- And love you Through it- No matter what. You are capable And strong enough- To get through- And overcome The hard stuff.
I cried for you- I held you close. I felt your spirit tremble. I was sorry for everything You were up against- But I also knew It wasn’t anything You couldn’t handle…
Breast Cancer came And stripped me Of my identity.
I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t struggling- Mentally.
I am still reeling From all I went through Physically…
And still healing From the cancer aftermath Intricacies. It’s tricky.
There’s just so much I feel like I have lost from this…
And yet, in the same breath, I’m incredibly grateful To everyone who was there And got me through it…
But I’m grieving Everything I used to be- Half of my self-image Was ripped from me.
My beautiful hair Came out in clumps. My eyelashes disappeared. And the most feminine parts Of me were stripped away. It’s hard to feel like yourself again when Everything has changed.
My hair is growing back in, Ever so slowly, But strangely. When I look In the mirror now, I hardly recognize the person Standing in front of me.
I look deeply into the eyes Staring back at me- The same eyes I have looked into, And out from My entire life…
And I see so much sadness In that little girl, My inner child, Hidden away Behind those walls Deep down inside of me.
I want her to know That I’m so proud Of everything She’s overcome. I want her to know- She’s beautiful No matter what This life has done.
And even if She no longer Sees it within herself, She has way too much Life left to live To put herself Up on that shelf.
I want her to keep fighting And growing- Through her own inner turmoil- I want her to know that Some of life’s most beautiful Things sprout up from A single seed and lots of soil.
I want her to stop building A fortress to keep the world out- Instead, I want her to feel and pour Her beautiful broken heart out.
I want her spirit to soften Instead of growing bitter. I want her to feel loved In spite of her scars and her flaws- For they will only make her better.
I want her to feel powerful In spite of her weakest moments. And I want her to Spread her wings and fly again… And release All the pain she tends To hide the closest.
I want her to see and feel The magic of this world again. And I want her to know That this battle Isn’t where her precious life ends… It’s where her beautful New chapter begins…
I’m searching High and low- For the rainbow In my new normal. Crying, praying, Pondering, And wavering Between hope And hopeless. Between faith And why this? Feeling all the weight, and strain, And bulk of this- New world I’m staring into. A long road ahead Of healing, And reeling, And struggling To stand tall, And strong again. I feel like I’m fighting Against the wind. But I always fight To win. I’m weakened, And I’ve been Hit hard By chemo treatment. My daily struggles Are no secret. My dignity Has taken a big hit. And I’m right in The thick of it. Hair loss, weight gain, Stiff, painful muscles, Twitching, sensitive eyes, And Menopause – Overnight. Tissue expanders, And fluid retention. I’m down at the bottom Begging for redemption. Breast Cancer Is a disease and a terrible life infection A life changing direction, With deepened introspection Of who and what I am at my core Because everything That once was- Is nothing like It was – before. I must do Everything Within my power To find the rainbow After this storm. I must set my ego aside And find the light In my new life- My new norm. For there is beauty To be found In every life cycle And in every living form.
Breast Cancer I am 1 in 8. Blinded by the diagnosis, and still coming to terms with accepting this as my fate.
I could ask, “Why me?”, and go to a sad, dark place quite easily. But that is a question- that will never be answered. And staying there would rob me of my power- Indefinitely.
Instead- I choose positivity. I choose hope. I choose faith. I choose humor. I choose to find the things that make me feel happy, rather than focus only on all the difficulty. I choose gratitude. And I choose my attitude. Daily. And intentionally.
Breast Cancer treatment- is a BIG mountain to climb. A giant obstacle- directly in front of me. And I am facing it head on, and riding the waves of change, and the side effects of every treatment with as much grace as I can, to the best of my ability. Overcoming this- And sharing my story and my journey along the way- is part of my life destiny. And I believe that wholeheartedly.
Breast Cancer- Why me? I will never know the reason. And I will never ask. This is my life test, and I’ve been called to task. I am 1 in 8. And I will overcome. I will do my best to keep my chin up through this adversity, and my battle WILL be won.
Breast Cancer affects so many. It’s shocking when you’re in the thick of it. Giant hugs and honor to all who have been impacted – by this enormity. I stand among the countless women who have been down this road before me. And I look forward to standing with them at the finish line, as a survivor with a story.
Beautiful scars on both sides of my heart. Proof that I will do anything, and everything- to stay right where you are.
My family and friends are my world. These life moments are like gold. Removing my breast cancer is my act of intention towards my will for growing old.
A major life-changing, life-saving decision. A skin-sparing, double mastectomy. Letting go of all that is no longer best for me.
I haven’t lost anything! I’ve gained my life, and more minutes. I’m well on my way- to a cancer-free me. I am blessed. I am humble, and I am in this to win it.
Beautiful scars- on both sides of my heart, tell a bigger life story of survival, revival, God’s amazing grace, and His everlasting glory.
Life’s most precious moments- are fleeting. My heart is alive and well, and still beating.
I’ve been busy living every minute- to the fullest. In the quiet moments, I am grieving. But in the face of it all, I remain upright and stoic.
I may crumble in the dark- but God brings me right back to His light. I may get angry at the journey that lies in front of me. But God is holding my hand tight.
I didn’t ask for this, and I’d rather not have to do it. But God brought me to this- and He will bring me through it.
I choose to set my sights on every silver lining that lies before me. I choose faith over fear, and I hold onto hope with all the courage I have- even while I am mourning.
I believe wholeheartedly that our life journey is for a reason. We may not understand our hardships or life difficulties- but we must remain steadfast, trust in Him and keep believing.
I will give my all- to be a beacon of bright light for all who may go down a similar life journey. This isn’t me going into battle. This is me going through some tough-ass moments, letting go, big personal growth, and so much learning.
Cancer does not, and will not ever define me. I will rise and face the music directly in front of me, bask in God’s healing light, and breathe in peace, as I begin the painful process of leaving this cancer behind me.
There are painful, Angry moments. In the in-between. When I scream, shout And curse my way Through this grief… When I am weak. When I feel small. When I fall- All the way… Down.
Grace Only finds me Again…when- I am ready.
When I give in- And give it all Right back to Him. When I kneel down, And pray… God shines His everlasting light Down upon me. Radiating His love And blessings All around me. And it is then…when- I know and feel That everything Surrounding me, Dumbfounding me, And humbly Grounding me Will be okay…
But grace Doesn’t find me Every waking day.
It is up to me To go looking, Crawling, climbing Or falling… My way back To trusting in Him. Again, and again, And again.
I give my heart, My love, My faith, My trust, And my gratitude To Him.
Believing In His healing, And In His timing More than mine. And I will keep Fighting, Persevering And overcoming My plight. I have cancer- But that Doesn’t define My life.
TANiELLE ART 