This is 46

  
If you had told me on my 45th birthday that I would be a cancer survivor by my 46th birthday, I probably would have told you to f$&@ off. Why the hell would I get cancer?  

And then of course I got cancer. But even then I would have told you that cancer wasn’t going to affect my life. I was just going to get through my treatment and get on with my life. (This is the part where God laughs in my face.)

  
So here I am, a 46 year old cancer survivor. I am also a daughter, a stepmother, a cat mom, a cousin, a niece, a friend, a coworker, a boss, an employee. This year has taught me the true value of those roles and the relationships they represent. I didn’t want to lose my identity to cancer and now I see that was never really a possibility. Now I know that “cancer survivor” means I did something that was really hard, that I am capable of doing things that are really hard, and I’m happy to add that role to my list.   

  

It’s hard to get a good picture with this hairdo. My eyes and my teeth look huge, my neck looks scrawny and you can’t really see the way my hair sticks straight up on top (or how much I love the fact that my hair sticks straight up on top). The camera doesn’t capture the softness I see in my face…the serenity…the strength. 

Fate whispers to the warrior “You cannot withstand the storm.” And the warrior whispers back “I am the storm.”

This quote was a mantra that helped me get through chemotherapy. Now it is just a quiet knowledge in my heart. Now my life resets, and I love a good reset. I relish the opportunity to think about and choose the things I want to spend my time doing. This is 46. And I love it.