A year of change…blogging and turning the page.

What a difference a year makes. One of the first inquires people I haven’t seen in awhile tend to ask these days is “how are you feeling?”. Far enough away from those moments where I always felt like a bloated cranky tired bitch, that I almost forget how difficult they were. Not exactly where I was before IGA Nephropathy and Prednisone reeked havoc on my life but closer than I was last year. The first picture was me last summer, and the later is me just last month. I remember the moment when my daughter took my phone and snapped the first picture of me. I was sitting in my cousins back yard in Chatham on July 4th talking to my aunt. The day was hot as hell, and I likely had sweat in all the unmentionable places. We had walked down to watch the parade through town, shade being the hottest commodity that day. I wore a dress not to be cute, but because Prednisone had limited my wardrobe down to just a few options. Amazingly I wasn’t feeling that bad about my appearance, until I saw this image. I hated that picture. I was so angry what illness and the subsequent treatments had taken from me. The shocked looks on the faces of my friends and families that hadn’t seen me in awhile told a story that words could not express. I did not imagine these looks, nor did I blame anyone who made them. I barely recognized myself in the mirror. Despite all of that I couldn’t force myself to delete this photo. I didn’t want to hide from that moment, or gloss over it. I held close the idea that this was only temporary, and i would go back to my old self. I knew one day I would be able to look back at that moment and be grateful, and I am. Grateful for more than just cheek bones and a jawline, but for the lessons it taught me. This year has been fraught with more changes and lessons than one could comprehend. Illness, treatments, selling a house, new homes, lots of personal changes I won’t dive into, and then trying to help my children navigate all of it. You would think that was enough for a year, and then the pandemic hit. If anything this last year has left me well equipped to handle life’s twists. I have shared and blogged about a lot of it, but many moments had me crying quietly alone. It’s hard to share when you feel stripped down. Naked and exposed, we tend to rush to cover up in another’s presence. Over the past year the propensity to hide my truths has diminished. I look at the first photo and there was no place to hide, my truths as obvious as graffiti on a pristine surface. I wore them like armor, laced with jokes I made at my own expense as an explanation for my appearance.

I started this blog as a way to insert levity into a bleak diagnosis, to offer support to others in similar predicaments, and as an outlet for my feelings regarding all of it. Over the past year it has offered me support, validation, and a sense of empowerment that has guided me. I am so grateful for the encouragement and love I have gotten from everyone. I have learned that beauty and strength are nothing without truth and humility. I have found mine in the moments where I embraced my weaknesses and owned my failures, and this is truly were I find it in others. When the moments that could easily break us strengthen our resolve. These moments of authenticity allow us to be truly free. This year has been a trip. I was wrong about one thing, I didn’t go back to my old self. I came back stronger, more appreciative, and with a greater sense of what is truly important. Lastly, In an effort to prevent my blog from reading like a series of dear diary entries, this will likely be my last post. I may revisit it someday, but today I am ready to turn the page and start the next chapter. A million thanks to everyone that took the time to read my words, and made me felt heard. Like the photo of myself above I couldn’t delete, I leave this blog here as a reminder of my journey. Stay safe and be well my friends.