Looking Forward

Like everyone else on the planet right now, I’m looking forward. To a new year, a new me. Blah blah blah. You’ve heard it all before. And that’s ok. I’ve heard it too. And I’ve said it. This is not a new New Year’s resolution.

What is new is that I’m putting it out there. I’m holding myself accountable. Well, actually, you’re holding me accountable.

Here’s a series of photos I took of myself today. No AI. No makeup. No filters. Just me.

This is not a version of me I’m proud of. I don’t like my body. I don’t like my face. I don’t like my hair. None of it. I’m wearing a spectacular designer gown in a size eight. That I (obviously) cannot zip all the way up. My hips are too hippy. My face too blotchy and my hair too – well, too nothing.

I’m not proud of how I look right now and I know, I know, I’m my own worst critic.

What I am proud of is that I’m learning to accept myself as I am. My body, my face, my hair – none of it is bad and in 20 years I’ll likely look back at these photos and wish I still had that body, that face and that hair.

I’ve been through three surgeries, each with their own ‘recovery’ period. Months of restrictions: don’t lift your arms over your head, don’t lift more than 10 pounds, don’t do anything that raises your heartbeat, don’t exercise, don’t have sex. Oh and don’t forget to take this medication every day for the next five years that will make your teeth and bones brittle, make your hair dull and lifeless, and give you the memory and the joints of an 80-year-old.

I’m proud that, despite all of this, I’m able to look myself in the mirror and say, “But I’m still here! And I can accept ALL of that. AND there are things I can change.”

Can I blame cancer? Sure as shit, I can! But I also have to take responsibility for my behavior.

Today is day one of new habits I’m forming.

No wine (Sorry, Susan!).

Moving more at home to work on projects and clean – less sitting around.

I started a customized 20-minute workout made just for me and my not-really-80 body.

I’m starting to pack up my house. I’ve been saying I’m going to find a house and move to Virginia for about two years now. It’s not going to happen if I don’t get ready…so I’m getting ready.

So. My promise to myself is that one year from now I will fit into that gorgeous gown. It will zip up properly. And I will be wearing it out for New Year’s Eve somewhere fabulous. With someone fabulous. My skin and face will be radiant. My hair will be sleek and silky. And I will be proud that, even though I didn’t need to change a damn thing to be beautiful, I worked hard and achieved the differences that make me feel more comfortable with how I look. I will be proud of myself for doing more to feel better, reduce pain and inflammation, to lose extra pounds that are also burdening my joints and for taking action on a daily basis even though my norm has become to sit around not exercising, not doing anything strenuous and, frankly, not taking the best care of myself that I could have.

Yes – I’m still here! I beat cancer. And what for? Not to sit around. Not to wallow in pain and inflammation. One year from now you bet your ass I will be celebrating. No more looking back.

I’m looking forward. To all of it!