I talk a big game, y’all.
I have made excuses for my non dating, non sex life for months now. All the reasons are true – I don’t trust my bullshit meter when it comes to my heart, I don’t want to share anything with anyone, I want my life to be my own one hundred percent, yada-yada-yada. That’s all true, but there is also one other guerrilla sitting in the corner.
My body. I’ve shared that I’m a breast cancer survivor. I’m going to celebrate twelve years cancer free this year! That in itself is an amazing thing considering I had a very aggressive form of breast cancer.
I have a body covered with scars and side effects. I have parts of my body that aren’t factory original and I will have to prepare the next someone who I choose to share my body with for what they will see.
I almost don’t want to write this blog because this is almost crossing a line for what I want out on the internet….but what are boundaries when you have a lifestyle and self-observational blog? So we are going deep dive into fears and insecurities.
There are a couple of hurdles I’m not keen on tackling. When do I tell someone I’m a cancer survivor and my body isn’t like other women? What if when the clothes come off that person looks at me with disgust? What if they minimize it? What if they run screaming? What if they never call back?
Then again – what if they see me as the champion of champions who kicked cancers ass and to them I look like the biggest, baddest super hero of all time?
It’s the crap shoot of not knowing what the response will be that is one of the realest reasons I don’t put myself out there more. I am scared shitless.
I don’t have any feeling in my chest all the way into one of my armpits. I don’t have nipples, I have tattoos. I have scars from my double mastectomy and scars from follow up surgeries to assist with reconstruction. I have a hernia from one of those surgeries dislodging a previous hernia repair. I have a scar from my chemo port, I have scars from skin harvesting for my reconstruction and I have scars that aren’t on the outside.
It’s a package, y’all. A big package of scars and breast cancer PTSD. I’m a ball of insecurity that no one sees.
Geeze, I don’t even want to put this out there, but I’m going to because I know I’m not the only one who has fears like mine. We all have scars, right? We’ve all had stuff. We all feel like freaks when we have to show someone new our scary secrets and our ugly scars. We have to be vulnerable and that is so damn terrorizing.
It’s so damn terrorizing that I just don’t want it. I don’t want to be vulnerable and scared. So I just don’t.
It’s going to have to be someone really special that can crack that hard shell of insecurity. It’s going to take someone really secure with themselves to reassure me that they don’t see me as damaged goods.
Because I see me as damaged goods. I see myself as a patchwork quilt of implants, ports, scars and restrictions. I can’t have artificial nails, manicures or even blood pressure or IV’s in my left arm because of all the lymph nodes that were taken for testing during my cancer surgery. Any injury or trauma to that arm or hand – even a bee sting- could cause permanent swelling called Lymphedema that could result in having to wear a compression sleeve for the rest of my life. In South Texas!! Can we say Seventh Circle of Hell?
So I sequester myself away and tell myself I don’t want anyone in my life. Really though, I don’t want to deal with the peeling back of layers of damage to reveal the vulnerable part that is still so fragile even twelve years later.
Bah! Gross over share, I know! But you can’t say you weren’t warned. It’s right up there in the title.
I’m going to leave this here for now. I don’t want pity or people to tell me how beautiful I am that the right man will look past all the physical stuff. (Ok you can tell me I’m beautiful, I won’t punch you for it) I would like to know someone is attracted to me for me – scars and implants included. I would like to know that someone digs boob tattoos and no nipples. I would like to know that someone sees scars as beautiful as birthmarks – but with better stories.
Have I shared that I want that as a tattoo? I want a scripty written tattoo that says “Scars are like birthmarks but with better stories”. Pretty cool, right? Don’t steal it.
Ok, overshare over…..for today anyway.