It’s probably not a shock to know that the past few years have been…chaotic for me. Between the pandemic, a stage 3 breast cancer diagnosis, and all the lifetimes I’ve lived in the last few years, I’m ready for a fresh start.
My earliest memories involve the written word. I’ve had so many plans to get back into it. But the thing about trauma is that it comes along for the ride. I’ve been so scared to let it seep into my interactions with others that I’ve just stayed silent. If I stay quiet, I can’t hurt anyone. But the thing about that is, I don’t help anyone, either.
I’m scared: scared to lose more relationships. Scared to say the wrong thing, not be enough for people. To have it affect my professional life. Or maybe I’m just plain ol’ crazy and never really had anything to share in the first place.
I used to like that part of me. The one wasn’t afraid of speaking out and loud, sharing things no one wants to talk about. Because these situations are lonely and fucking terrifying. Often, you only hear about the good and miraculous, but that’s not often how it works. You do not know what living through cancer is like until it’s happened to you, and even then, it’s not the same. Use your imagination all you want, you’ll never know how you respond until you’re in it. Living it. And that, somehow, puts me in this unique position to use my gift (that would be writing) to share my experiences with others.
I’m ready to reclaim my voice.
This site is primarily professional, but that part of me also went through the last four years with me. I’m one person with a multitude of sides, and the professional has gotten buried under other important things, and for good reason. It’s time to resurrect the writer. Or, at least, publish some of these things I’ve been writing.
But don’t expect me to be the person who writes business lessons from cancer treatment. Maybe there’s a post or two there, but always having to flip personal crises for business purposes seems ridiculous. Chemo fucking sucked, why do I need to uncover business lessons from it?
Squeezing every last ounce of silver lining from a situation like cancer really downplays the terribleness of the disease and what you have to do to survive. These things are not equal, and it puts a lot of pressure on you to act/be a certain way. As a patient, you’re often expected to be positive, hopeful, and inspiring, even when you’re feeling exhausted and scared. I understand that humans need to not live in a constant state of crisis, but you know, that’s exactly what happens. It is exhausting, but it’s real.
It’s like how we downplay motherhood—how hard it is, even just getting pregnant. The babies we lose through miscarriage, how hard giving birth is, how long it takes for your body to even out its hormones. You’re expected to be the normal you—to perform at the high level you always do—all while experiencing whacky things you cannot control. So…write a business post out of it!
No thanks.
When chemo gave me similar side effects as my second pregnancy, I realized how high expectations really are for women. It was easier to balance a career and personal life when there was less of it. The older I got, the heavier the weight became. Throw in some life-threatening situations, and your perception of career—what you’re willing to tolerate for it—changes drastically.
Life’s too short to tolerate.
So, I find myself here once again, putting myself out there. Not to extract business lessons from trauma or squeeze silver linings from suffering, but to write my truth – messy, complicated, and real. Because sometimes just showing up as you are, with all your scars and stories, is enough.
