Today I attended the beautiful, heart-breaking funeral of a fellow young adult with cancer. I don’t know what to write, because everything I put down sounds selfish to me. But, I guess that’s the nature of Survivor’s Guilt. So. . . I guess I’ll try to write without overthinking how it sounds and just letContinue reading “Permission to Live”
Author Archives: Stef G.
All I Want
Sometimes I feel like a ghost screaming at the real world, longing to be heard. All I want is for one person to turn around and see me, to acknowledge my effort in just being, And say “I hear you. I see you. You are real to me.” Sometimes I feel like a hamster onContinue reading “All I Want”
Rebirth
I’ve spent almost the last 3 years mourning my old self, lamenting the past. I think a lot of people do this, whether or not they’ve faced cancer or another life-altering trauma. I believe it’s a form of anxious attachment to perceived comfort and stability; we feel safe in the known, even if the knownContinue reading “Rebirth”
Superhero Status Achieved
Since my diagnosis first with Charcot-Marie-Tooth (a genetic degenerative neuromuscular disease) and then with tongue cancer (also a genetic thing), I’ve often joked that I’m like one of the X-Men. If you’re unfamiliar with Marvel’s X-Men, they can best be described as humans with genetic changes that give them a variety of super powers. They’reContinue reading “Superhero Status Achieved”
A More Realistic Fairy Tale
The story starts with our beloved heroine, exhausted from slaying demons, sobbing on the floor. She is alone in her cold, gray tower. Alone except for the demons she grows so weary of fighting. She has realized there is no knight coming to save her. No army. No one. And the demons keep marching steadilyContinue reading “A More Realistic Fairy Tale”
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Do you choose fear or love?
The Gift
I can distinctly remember a shirt I hated as a child because it was itchy. I remember throwing a fit because of it. I still hate itchy or restrictive clothes. I have to have 400+ thread count sheets and they have to be cotton, not sateen. Otherwise they feel scratchy and I can’t get comfortable.Continue reading “The Gift”
Summertime Sadness
Ah, Summer. The warm air. Crickets chirping. Beach trips. Family vacations. Cookouts. A sense of inexplicable depression and dread. Record screech Wait, what? This time two years ago I was discovering myself and learning to accept myself. I was getting into working out more, had met a really great guy, my son had just finishedContinue reading “Summertime Sadness”
Looking a Gift Horse Squarely in the Mouth
Cancer survivorship is complicated. Every single day is a gift to be met with open arms. Except it’s a gift from your 97-year-old Great Aunt Edna who thinks you’re still 7 and love Pepto-Bismol pink wool turtleneck sweaters with cows sewn on the front. And it’s the only thing you can wear for the restContinue reading “Looking a Gift Horse Squarely in the Mouth”
A Eulogy to My Former Self
Today I miss her. I miss her smile. I miss her sarcasm and how she would sit outside on Summer evenings and savor a glass of sweet wine. I miss her love of spicy food and trying new things and pushing the limits of her physical capabilities. I even miss her naivete. Sometimes I especiallyContinue reading “A Eulogy to My Former Self”
One Life, One Chance 