Love: My Sense of Direction

Listening to: everything and anything on my iTunes (one of those days)

 I have come to a point in my life where I am comfortable, and I can say whole- heartedly, I am comfortable with myself. I know who I am as a person, I know what I want out of this lifetime and I know what I need to do myself to achieve this. I truly am blessed to have come to this point. It’s insane really to think that these trials and seemingly impossible tests of strength have fallen short of my true potential. I can sit here and write with ease, and feel the pulse run through me as I live and breathe because I have fought so incredibly hard and I deserve to be here. I have survived and lived to see past what was expected of me. Expectations yes, I was expected to live no more then a year remember. I wouldn’t expect three years, three craniotomies, two rounds of regional radiation and countless chemotherapies later I’d be here profoundly declaring the absolute amazing journey I am about to embark on while I keep this blessing of a battle I have brilliantly braved thus far in my heart as I wake each morning.

I told Marc yesterday that I finally feel like I know what I want. What I want. I didn’t expect it to be as weird for me as it ended up being. I felt almost like as I had to slowly let him know exactly what it was I planned to do with my life, career and mental choices for the future. As I spoke, each line became more slippery through my grasps as though I couldn’t take them back because I had confided in the man I had decided to spend my eternal forever with, and this was a solid commitment I couldn’t break. Maybe I was being dramatic, I mean it’s not like he would judge me if I accidentally  would slip up and waver, but if you’re the only one who knows the roadmap and the exact plan then nobody can get mad at you right? But this man is the love of this life and I know of past lives and hopefully infinite lives that the universe allows. Opening up to him is part of this new sense of direction for me, and it will be really good for us.

I mean I understand that just because you say you’re going to change it doesn’t necessarily mean you’re going to do it, but this was different. I know I am going to do this, because it’s not just for my own self-care and well being, but it’s for those I truly care for and love. If I can’t take care of myself in every way, shape and form, how will I ever be able to take care of my relationships with the universe around me?

My psychological, emotional and physical health are so strong right now. My aura “invisible field of energy believed to radiate from person or object” feels amazing and clean because I choose to keep it that way. I don’t allow others to tarnish it with their negativity or their bad-vibes, it’s not worth it. It makes me literally sick. So I’ve been able to learn how to zone out and pick out the negativity from my surroundings, and only encompass myself in the goodness that is the lightness of positivity and those people you just are drawn to because they’re uplifting to your spirit and energy. It takes time and practice, but if you just slowly start putting yourself in those positions where there’s an insatiable craving for genuine happiness and make a conscious effort to be around this kind of energy, I think those situations will be more and more apparent.

“I didn’t always know what I wanted to do, but I knew what kind of woman I wanted to be“   -Diane Von Furstenberg

Beats keeping me alive

Listening to: Kaskade

Got some not so awesome news from my Neuro-oncologist yesterday. I’m going to start additional chemo treatment and radiation again soon. I was obviously upset, but shit happens. I just need to keep fighting. I’m going to be selfish, and do what makes me happy.

I’m also going to have to shave my head again, the chemotherapy will make my hair fall out, but I rocked a bald head before and I sure as hell can do it again.

I’m going to turn my speakers up as high as my cancerous brain can
handle, and take this all head on.

I am going to do this, again. Balding head held high, fists ready, bass pulsing through me…I am going to kick this cancer’s sorry ass.


Ink: “Dance in the rain”

Listening to: Paramore

 It’s been some time since I’ve felt the frustration, emotional hurt and overwhelming heaviness that accompany failure. Of course I’ve failed exams and been disappointed in myself in the past, but since I was diagnosed with this cancer I changed my way of thinking to believe in “dancing in the rain” or simply making the best out of a not-so-great situation.

Today, despite the fact that I have “Dance in the rain” tattooed on my collarbone, I ironically felt as if I was drowning in that rain. Why? Well, I failed at the basic dance class that I took after a four-year hiatus. I mentally prepared myself for what was to come, giving myself a pep talk along the lines of, “Just try your best! What other ballerina is fighting brain cancer? ”. Physically, I made sure I stretched my old and achy body long before I went to class knowing that I wouldn’t be able to keep up with the young and agile bodies around me. However,  bout five minutes into the class I quickly learned that I didn’t prep as much as I  thought.

Given verbal direction and counts of simple ballet movements somehow got jumbled and lost in the crater in my brain where the tumor once lay. While the other girls swiftly moved in synchronized movements across the floor, my mind was a flurry of verbal processing, all while my body attempted to keep its balance and decipher what my brain was trying to tell it. Frustration kicked in, and I felt myself burn with hurt and embarrassment. Why couldn’t I do these simple things? I made it onto varsity dance team my senior year, and I was physically able to go on runs, so I was utterly confused with what was going on.

After fighting back my tears and enduring the grueling hour of humiliation, I made it back to my car and cried with a heavy heart cursing cancer and what it had done to me. Dance was always my safe haven and outlet during my pre-psychologist seeing days, and I just wanted to be able to tap into that again.

As I write this I still am contemplating if I’ll ever be able to muster up the courage to give it another shot. It was a hurtful reality-check for me. Cancer has essentially taken away my ability to do some thing I love.  I could always practice in the comfort of my home, but I don’t think it’ll yield that same satisfaction. I keep telling myself that this incident is all in my head and that I need to go back to thinking positively. I need to really think about what these side effects of surgeries, radiation and chemotherapy have done to my body and work past it all so that I’ll never feel like a failure again.

 Failure is a mindset.

“Stepping onto a brand-new path is difficult, but not more difficult than remaining in a situation, which is not nurturing to the whole woman.” – Maya Angelou


I close my eyes and just take in the air, I breathe in the chords, the bass

and my pulse are one. I am okay. I am safe.

My mind settles and the consciousness proceeds to slow and become the weightlessness I crave. It’s the ecstasy that I remember without a pill, it’s the full force of being submerged in each note, dripping slowly but surely through a pinhole into my soul.

It is alive and it has consumed me, again.


The Naked & Famous (In Rolling Waves) 

Despite all of the bumps in the road, I can’t help but feel blessed. Yes, I hate that I get extremely exhausted after chemotherapy, and I have become a housewife who on occasion will venture out into the world. I can’t help but see all of the fabulous things people post on their sites, their amazing grown up jobs, their newest accomplishment, and so on.  For a faint second a speck of envy lingers in my heart, but just as quickly as it was sparked, it gets crushed by a sense of calm in knowing that I have what many people may not, true relationships which contain real love. It is a love that allows me to continue fighting in all my sickness and the nonsense that encompasses this world.

 Growing up in an environment where love, emotions and feelings are not fostered, I had a no real idea of how to express myself, but through experiences, depression, and ruined relationships, I’ve come pretty far. I have learned the importance of acceptance, compromise, and truly being able to express how I feel in all forms of communication. When it comes to love, whether it’s your special someone, your parents, or a best friend, all of those things are important.  

As far as a special someone being concerned, I truly believe with my entire being that I lucked out. I was blessed enough to meet, who I believe is my soul mate. That person who I have known and loved in a past life, and was fortunate enough to come across in this lifetime.

 From the start of our relationship, I was very frank and communicated exactly what I wanted, what I was going through, and let him know that if he saw it as too much baggage, he could leave, no hassle, no argument. I believed at that time that I emotionally, financially and whatnot was able to be independent, and didn’t need to get involved unless it was worth it. I suppose I had too much pride at the time to let someone in. 

Yet here I am, two years, countless emotional episodes (mainly on my part), three brain surgeries, ongoing cancer treatments, a handful of real arguments later, and we’ve made it.  From the get go, we promised that we would never go to sleep mad at one another, we always talked things through, never held grudges, never screamed at the other, accepted the flaws, and adjusted to the changes. We’re getting married in December, and each day I learn more and more about him, our relationship, and most importantly myself.


Whether it’s building a relationship with your mom, friend or significant other, know that “love is a journey, not a destination”.