When I was diagnosed with breast cancer and told that I would definitely be losing my Leonian mane, I began estimating how many months it would take for me to look 'normal' again.
Hair became synonomous with life and for a while there, the words could have been used interchangeably. Hair apparently grows on average 1cm per month. With tape measure in hand, I estimated that my post cancer hair would begin to provide a healthy appearance around the time of my fortieth birthday.
Turning 40 would not be a midlife crisis for me. Instead, it became a fabulous coming of age. A celebration of life.
In fact, having cancer changes your entire relationship with your body. Instead of worrying about the ageing process, fussing over fine lines and new wrinkles, you become grateful for the opportunity to grow older.
I no longer obsess over the size of my tummy or thighs, instead, feeling a level of acceptance I would never have thought possible.
Don't get me wrong. It's not about no longer caring, or letting myself go. It's more a practice in self compassion, ensuring the balance is in favour of the positive self talk, instead of the negative - something I think we should all learn to do! Life as they say, is too short.
- I started this blog as I entered my 40th year, and now firmly in my 40s, I continue to learn so much about life. I'm learning that life rarely goes according to plan and that there's something new to learn every single day, be it a subtle nudge or a smack in the face.... This is my blog about muddling through my 40s-working hard, writing a book, being an ammateur photographer, trying to exercise and eat well, endeavouring to be the world's best aunt, as well as having fun and laughing out loud every single day.