My housemate was running a half marathon and I offered to accompany her. The race was over the Shropshire hills. By this point I felt very much back on my feet. I grew up watching Xena: Warrior Princess, I could definitely manage a hike weeks after major surgery.
The scenery was absolutely beautiful, looking back, it probably wasn’t my wisest plan. I had no sun screen, no water, no map. But I managed it. I walked for miles in search of a waterfall. Unfortunately, the steps and rocks I would have to scale to get there was just beyond my capability and I decided not to destroy all my internal stitches for a glimpse of a waterfall which wasn’t even magical. At the time this broke me. Knowing I am unable to have HRT as my cancer feeds on the hormones is difficult. My body will begin deteriorating and nobody can tell me how long this will take. My oncologists can provide no information at all. My bones will become brittle, my skin will lose it collagen, I will age from maiden to crone in a matter of years.
But until that happens, I have every intention of not wasting a moment. Of not admitting defeat. Girls don’t grow up watching Warrior Princesses to just give up when life is a little cruel. I am wounded and weakened, but this does not mean I am weak.
“One of the greatest tragedies in life is to lose your own sense of self and accept the version of you that is expected by everyone else.”— K.L. Toth