The air got thin, the room started to spin and I found myself unable to breathe. Unable to fill my lungs with air. I ask him if he was sure.

Did I really have cancer?
Why couldn’t he take those words back?
Why was this my reality?

I wish that I could just go back to before when this wasn’t on my horizon, I grieved hard. I wish I had advocated harder to get that pesky lump on the side of my neck checked sooner. I wish I hadn’t put my head in the sand for the year previous, thinking I was just overworked. The long and short of it was: I blamed myself. I thought I could have done something different than what I had been doing. I honestly believed that it was my life's choices that had lead me to this. I mean, I was “fat” right?!? That’s how I viewed myself for so long, that now I can’t see the other things inside of me that make me the amazing human I am. 

At 34 years old, I was freshly diagnosed with Papillary Carcinoma that had metastasized to my lymph nodes. After spending so many hours in doctors offices, hearing over and over that it was “probably nothing”, I was shook that this was my new reality. My doctor kept saying that it’s was all going to be okay, and I knew she was lying. After all, I was a “healthy” young woman who had had a string of weird medical issues the previous year. Nothing that would indicate cancer. But it was mine to now process and try to “fit” into my life. I was happy so to say. I had a career, I travelled frequently, I had a great support system in place but nothing would prepare me for those words and the fallout that comes with having cancer. I left the biopsy and had a full blown panic attack in my car. I knew I had cancer then. But I didn’t want to hear it. So I waited. The air never filled my lungs again the same way again. 

Everything changed in an instant. The things I thought I knew, I quickly realized that I didn’t. I felt so alone… but I wasn’t. I thought I was misunderstood, but I just needed to find people who “got it”. So, I reached out for support. I found a core group of people who understood my grief. Slowly, they helped me to see life was worth living… and for every friend I lost, it burned a fire deep inside me to live.

Physically, I slowly started to heal, but it hasn’t been as easy on the emotional and spiritual side. At the age of 35, I was broken, single and scared. I remember laying in bed at night, with my dogs beside me, comforting me as I shook with fear, doubt, anxiety and sadness. My body wailed, we looked at the stars and wondered if I could pinpoint exactly where it went wrong. I begged the universe for a break. I had just endured the greatest heartache I had ever experienced; freshly divorced and living on my own for the first time ever. 

I didn’t understand the complications from a seemingly “good” cancer and how catastrophic they would be. Thyroid cancer is considered to be a “better” cancer to get as the doctors see it as having a high survival rate. I knew since mine had spread to my lymph nodes, I was in a different situation. I didn’t feel as though the people around me understood that. Staying positive is hard when no-one understands what you’re going through. It’s taken me years to understand that my body doesn’t actually hate me, it’s fighting for me. Its fighting for my survival and my peace of mind. And it’s a war that’s been raging for 6 years.

Today, I am cancer free.

I’ve hit my 5 year remission date....but it as anyone who has experienced any form of cancer knows, your body doesn’t always heal when you want. I’ve been patient, and my only wish is for me to feel strength again. I’ve begged, pleaded and cried for relief from the mental hardship that came along with it. But what I came to realize was, nothing would be healed if I didn’t start on the inside first. So, I started the hard work of internal healing

Life has a way of throwing punches. It has a way of testing resilience and spirituality. Once I hit 30, the punches started. Divorced at 32, cancer at 34, life saving surgery at 35, radiation, moved cities, changed careers… the list goes on. But that’s not my focus anymore. It’s taken me 41 years to figure out some fairly substantial life lessons, and those lessons I turned into vows.

Vows to myself for the day I promised to love myself. 

To the woman who’s had my back from day one, I love you.

I haven’t always loved or appreciated you but as I stand here today, I promise to always do my best to treat you with kindness and respect. See, respect isn’t always something that is easy to come by. We’ve been broken down and programmed to be critical of ourselves. We’ve been told that our natural selves aren’t enough if we don’t look a certain way. But I’m here to tell you that that doesn’t matter. You are perfect. You are perfect for me and my existence.

You are brave, braver than most understand. You are compassionate and loving. You love the people in your life fiercely and that is something that can’t be shaken. Your soul matches your fiery red hair, it burns hot for what makes you happy. Please, don’t ever change for anyone again. As I stand here today, with these vows in place, I promise to never doubt your beautiful capabilities. Your heart is  bigger than the sun itself and that is special.

I see you, for all of your devotion and passion.

Never let me go. You deserve love as grand as the universe but start loving you the way you want to be loved. Never doubt who you were raised to be. Never doubt the path that has been blazed for you so you can love yourself fully. Be free to be you. You live in a world of beauty, your eyes have seen some of the wonders of the world. But being happy has come at a price. You’ve lost some very meaningful relationships because you are choosing you first. You have stepped up to be your number one fan.

You have opened your heart to love and you will always see the good in others first. Always remember to love yourself and keep these vows close to your heart at all times.  Be free to be who you are, girl. You’re as special as they come.   

I love you, Amanda.

A renewal to myself. A promise made, a standard set.

With love to the moon and beyond, 

Amanda