MY Unbreakable TRUTH
Ihave always loved a good story. Stories are the glue that connect one generation to the next. Some stories have a happy ending, others end in tragedy. Some stories leave the reader hanging on and wanting more.
Stories. Everyone has one.
Surviving cancer is one thing. Survivorship is something else. By sharing my story, I hope you may have the courage to share yours.
The moment I truly appreciated how powerful words could be was July 2021; the twentieth anniversary of my diagnosis. I experienced a personal revelation after delivering a speech at my brother's wedding. My depression and anxiety began to dissipate on that night. All because I shared a few stories about growing up with a younger sibling.
For the first time in twenty years, I exhaled. A bit.
I clearly remember saying to myself, What just happened? I felt validated and empowered by the words I had shared because I realised my passion for connecting with others through the art of storytelling. Ironically the word “cancer” wasn’t even mentioned once in the speech. Yet, the awareness that deep within there was a story inside bursting to come out was overwhelming. For so long, I was not able to tell it, but I realised that night that there is no other option.
My story keeps me up at night because she longs to be told. So why wasn’t I? What exactly held me back all these years?
Well … a few things.
I have held back for fear of judgement. I felt too embarrassed. I didn’t want to seem insensitive towards the heartbreak and grief of others. I didn’t like the way I looked. I wasn’t sure how people would respond. I felt guilty sharing it.
My survivor guilt had such a grip on me that I was petrified to even look back and try to make sense of it. I didn’t even know it was a thing until I stumbled upon an article about PTSD. The guilt had convinced me that I should never talk about it.
Who do you think you are? Do you think you’re the only one who's gone through shit?
And that is precisely my point. We have all struggled with something. Focus should not be on who has had it worse, but rather on how we can help each other heal from whatever it was that broke us.
The silence is what feeds the monster in everyone. Everyone lives with a trauma or a regret, or a guilt-consumed memory. We all carry disappointments, fears, insecurities, self-doubt, grief, and unresolved emotion. What I hope through writing this is that others may feel brave enough to look inwards and come correct.
My mission now is about living a purposeful life and giving back to those who are suffering. Many suffer in silence. These days, living in gratitude and the importance of compassion and empathy towards others who may be going through their own struggles is the lens I use to view the world.
Faith has played a huge role in moving forward and overcoming the traumatic experience of being a cancer patient. We can encompass different forms of
spirituality and hopefulness and faith should not be dismissed especially during those challenging and turbulent times. Surrendering control and my belief in a higher power; a Divine energy of love and light, runs through me like a current. That is what happens when you have multiple discussions with your mortality. When adversity strikes some people turn away from God. I jumped right in.
Faith over fear is my morning mantra. Plus, lots of coffee. Then, I write down three things I am grateful for. I don’t have any tattoos yet but when I do get one, that is going to be my first one.
Faith over fear.
Plus a line from a U2 song: “...and when I go there, I go there with you. It’s all I can do…”
Until we go there, we need to focus on our time here.
God purposely puts people and situations in one’s path for their higher good. When things go wrong it is because it is happening for you; not to you. Survivor guilt stemmed from something deeper because not everyone who survives cancer deals with it. So why was this keeping me up at night?
I suppose I believed on a subconscious level that my illness was somehow deserved because I was a bad person. Feelings of inadequacy and insecurity have always influenced my thoughts and actions. As a child, I was bullied and tormented by people entrusted to care for me who offered regular reminders that I was “just not that special.” Personal insecurities and negative beliefs were instilled from a very young age. My first conscious memory was being publicly ridiculed for how I spoke. Growing up in an abusive household and the immigrant mentality of working hard and saving money was just how it was.
The more I share my story, and the more connections I make, the mountain of negative programming gets chipped away. Mental health issues grow from tiny seeds that were planted way before we were even aware.
The more I share my story, I pull out another rotted root.
Further, my mission as a teacher and youth mentor involves discussing the impact of negative self-talk on one’s self-esteem. My educational approach is always steered by the overall concern of the emotional well-being and social skills of our youth. These days it is necessary more than ever. Curriculum is important but so is feeling confident in your own skin. When helping a student address their self-advocacy skills I words wonder if my are more for me than them.
At the end of the day, what anchors me is the storytelling and the need for empathy and understanding in our interactions with each other. Sharing personal experiences, providing support, and making an authentic attempt to serve others is how we navigate this sometimes crazy world. It is through these connections that we can create a more compassionate and meaningful experience.
A few months ago, during a conversation with a friend, I was scolded for the first time ever for not sharing this story sooner.
“The problem, Natalie, is that you care too much what people think! Stop giving a shit. How dare you not share this story! Think of how many people you could have helped all this time!
As I said, God puts the people and the conversations in your path when you need it; and when you are ready to receive the message. My greatest hope is that I leave a positive legacy for my three daughters. I see them as a mirror for what I wish I had when I was younger and for what they need as they move forward. I am not a perfect parent but each day I make a mindful attempt at teaching them how to build on their resiliency and self-worth. But before I can guide them, I must first heal myself because I have to become what I want them to be. Otherwise, they will just inherit and carry on what I do not fix.
The cancer did not break me. Those bullies did not break me. That broken child’s voice in my head did not break me. I just could not accept my new identity because the guilt was not allowing it. And I was letting it control me.
I am not in remission. I have accepted my mission.