Learning To Love Myself

I feel like I am under a constant storm of clouds right now, just trying to stay dry whilst chaos ensues around me. I’ve finally caught the cold I seem to always be on the edge of and I also have a chest infection so I’m feeling a little sorry for myself this week. I’ve been spending as much time as possible in bed, where I finished this post I’ve been working on for the past four days. Still, I’ve got a weekend away to look forward to which I am very excited about! I just want to feel well; like when I wake up in the morning I can tackle the day ahead, rather than struggle to get out of bed. Hopefully a dose of antibiotics will do the trick!

It’s been a year since I wrote my blog post Singles Awareness Day. As I am sure we are all aware, today is February 14th aka Valentines Day; this is a day when everyone focuses on love, relationships, red roses and pink heart shape gifts. Perhaps, if you are like me it makes you focus on the lack of the above.

The suggestion is always that one needs to be happy in themselves before looking for love. It’ll probably always be a challenge for me to learn to be truly happy and love myself (scars and all) before I can let my barriers down and let anyone else in. I need to feel better from the inside out, I’ve neglected myself a lot over the years and this needs to change. It’s not going to happen over night, but if I’m not happy in myself, I’m certainly not going to let a man get close to me. If I don’t feel proud of my achievements, how will anyone else? Self love sounds very cheesy, but if I cannot see the positives in myself others around me won’t either.

At 31, if you’re not settled down It appears as a society we question it. I think others must think there is something wrong with me, but there is! I have incurable stage 4 cancer! I still have single friends, but increasingly couples are settling down, moving house and starting families. Days like Valentines Day serve as a constant reminder I’m not at the same stage in life. My successes (staying well, managing to work full time) are not the same as my peers, these are a given for 90% of those around me, they are just ‘the norm’ for others. I’ve been told multiple times over the years that I am ‘not the norm’ and boy do I feel that now!

It’s time to stop being so harsh on myself, to stop judging; and stop putting myself under the microscope of never ending scrutiny. There is no point in comparing my life to that of my peers, we aren’t in the same place, and it’s not a competition.

It would be nice to feel like a relationship could be possible one day. As I always say, I would’ve liked the choice, but I feel its been taken away from me with my diagnosis. I know it’s even more unlikely if I don’t make some changes to my attitude. I’d admire the ‘like it lump it’ and ‘this is me’ attitudes of other cancer patients I follow on social media, but it’s just not me.

Perhaps I’ve met a man I could be with, but I’ve been too busy keeping barriers up and focussing on my health that I haven’t even noticed? The idea having a relationship still feels so unlikely; like a fictional version of my life that will never really play out into reality. Who knows! Despite how positive things are looking In terms of my treatment I feel deep down no one wants to be with a terminal cancer patient. In the back of my mind I feel I don’t deserve it because my cancer status doesn’t make me a worthy candidate.

To be honest, I wouldn’t even know where to begin. For the past nine years I’ve put my body through so much; including multiple operations and some brutal treatment options which have multiple side effects. Each leave their own harsh physical and mental scars and often it is too much to deal with.

In order to move forward I need to accept what I’ve been through, and hopefully learn to be happy in myself first and foremost. I am a huge worrier, I am am not sure I can be truly happy and content in myself when I often feel my body is trying to kill me.

Every day I panic things will take a bad turn again. Cancer has magnified fears I didn’t have before, however It’s goes without saying that it has also highlighted the strength I can find within to keep going. I must stop beating myself up over my diagnosis and worrying I could have changed things. In this instance it doesn’t always feel like time is a healer!

Here’s to waking up tomorrow and feeling more over the weather than under it! And a happy goodbye to the Valentines gifts and paraphernalia for another year.

“Self-love is not selfish. You cannot truly love another until you know how to love yourself”

Singles Awareness Day

It is that time of year again, January is over, the new year is in full swing, resolutions have been broken, everyone has been paid again following Christmas, and it finally starts to feel like winter might not last forever after all. Valentines Day is the next celebration on the list in a couple of days. For some it’ll be a big deal; It’s a time when shops are filled with red and pink love hearts, fluffy cushions and chocolate themed gifts, because nothing says I love you more than a box of Cadbury Milk Tray.

I find it odd that somehow as a society we have started to measure love by how much affection or generosity one shows another on a particular day, instead of perhaps showing love in more simple ways all the time. Why does it have be once a year? If you are single like me, then messages everywhere are saying that this day is only for certain people. There is a reason we’ve all heard of the M&S ‘Dine in for Two’ and not one.

I recently heard of another phrase coined Singles Awareness Day, so thought I would take a moment to blog about relationships and cancer. Over the years I have struggled a lot with the idea and feel like the future has been stolen from me, which is particularly problematic when in comes to relationships. Cancer is a catyclysmic event at any age, but if you haven’t settled down with someone it makes that idea seem beyond impossible. I didn’t meet my Mr Right at University and was diagnosed with stage 4 cancer shortly after graduating, which has made relationships pretty much non existent. I am now 30 years old, I still have single friends, but increasingly people are settling down and starting families, and days like Valentines Day make it more and more apparent I’m not at the same stage in life and Cupid hasn’t done right by me so far.  I’m not desperately single or angry and bitter about it, but it would be nice to feel like a relationship could be possible one day. I would have liked the choice.

When I featured in the BBC documentary A Time To Live last year a clip of my interview was posted on the BBC News Facebook page. The clip showed my thoughts on dating and was subsequently viewed online 1.2 million times. You should be able to view the clip here. I still stand by what I said back then, why would anyone want to take on someone with incurable cancer? Imagine falling for someone you know there isn’t a future with; I have some much baggage it wouldn’t be fair on the man in question. I don’t like to think about my prognosis, my immunotherapy is working well, but I know ultimately the outlook isn’t good and I’m on borrowed time.

Dating feels like minefield at the best of times, so with a cancer diagnosis on top of the usual woes it becomes even more difficult to deal with. The thought of trying to go out and meet someone makes me feel physically sick. I don’t even go on nights out as it is! How do you tell a man you’ve only just met you have a terminal illness? It isn’t the chat someone brings to the table on a first encounter. Even with new friendships I worry about how much to tell others, should I tell them my cancer is terminal? Or that I can’t have children? Do I reference my scars before they notice? or do I casually mention I’ve already written a will and thought more about having a funeral than a wedding?

All of these questions are extremely hard to think about in day to day life, I can’t imagine being in that situation with a potential male suitor. Even without cancer, I am not sure a person shares everything about themselves so early on, but perhaps it’s easier to lay all your cards on the table from the start. I know it’s not a persons place to know about my situation, however cancer is such a huge part of my life, and that won’t ever change. I often wonder that as I’ve no control over my circumstances then maybe I shouldn’t be trying to keep people in the dark so much. I am not ashamed that I have cancer, but of course if there was one wish I could have in the whole world it’d be to change my diagnosis. I fear having the ‘I know, I don’t look unwell…but I am actually really ill’ conversation with everyone I meet.

In reality, I can’t be the only person out there of my generation in this position, and I often wonder how others have navigated through illness and dating. There is no one to tell you how to talk about cancer when you’re trying to form a new relationship or meet new people. I know my friends would say I should put myself out there to meet someone, as I know it is unlikely won’t happen if I don’t look out for it. It’s 2018, we are a generation where online dating is the new normal and I’ve been told I’d be a great candidate for First Dates, I’ve definitely got an interesting back story, but I wouldn’t want that to be my key selling point. How do you introduce yourself and explain you are dying? I know I don’t have as much to offer as a healthy person with their whole life ahead of them. Would the suggestion be to find a man with similar odds to myself, maybe someone who has also experienced cancer in the hope that they will understand the situation more? Sounds a bit weird to me.

I am not sure if the right man is out there, I’ve never been good at meeting people, so how could that possibly improve? Perhaps dating is a bit like going to job interviews, having to put on your best front with someone you don’t know and convince them you are what they’ve been looking for. A life limiting illness isn’t exactly a positive selling point. I think that cancer and dating are almost entirely incompatible, I don’t think I can I possibly factor my illness into future relationships. Often I don’t have much energy to see friends and family, let alone going out to meet a person I hardly know.

Having cancer places a very severe burden on a potential partner, I know couldn’t put that on someone else. Last time I checked I was still playing a tug of war with cancer, most likely to die a slow, debilitating death with the odds are all stacked against me. It’s not the sort of message to write inside a Valentine’s Day card. Or how about ‘Do you want to be with me until I deteriorate too much that we can’t cope?’

Rather than solely celebrating couples as such, I’m going to take this day to tell my family and friends around me that I love and appreciate them, because perhaps I don’t say it often enough.