Or not…on the plane back London from Beirut. Can’t wait to get into my new home, see the kids, move back into that life. They moved on 24th October and I haven’t lived in our new home yet – more of the surreal that is my life since July.
And desperately sad to leave The Man. We were both so upset this time – it’ll be 3 weeks until I see him again. Our weekend in Beirut was just wonderful – we got back on track, it was gentle, the connection so very strong. It was just about me and him – not work, not cancer, just us. And we know each other just that little bit more again – and like what we see and feel. It’s all been so very upside down – we met, 3rd date I announce I may have cancer, 4th date I confirm I have, I give him a very clear out, he stays and the rollercoaster began. This is really the first weekend we’ve had together as us – without it being post or during chemo, in a work spin or whatever else. And it was wonderful. I am deeply in love, discovering so very many firsts in this relationship which is incredible – I’ve hardly had a small life so aged 49 making these discoveries is pretty incredible.
And there is no escaping it. Without cancer this wouldn’t be happening. The whole cancer journey has made this relationship possible. I would not have let someone in – I was not in a place where I would have allowed myself to be vulnerable enough to love or be loved. Even with cancer it’s been a hellish struggle to be soft, to let myself be loved. As I’ve written about so many times on here, I know this journey is about love. And about allowing myself to be in love. Walking the cancer journey has softened me – kicking and screaming sometimes – but it has melted a lot of the hardness around me. I joke a lot at the moment about needing soft things around me – my skin gets really sore and I crave soft materials. I realise as I write this that I crave the softness in and around me as well.
So what am I saying? That I am grateful for having cancer because without it I wouldn’t have The Man, I wouldn’t be in love? Not sure I can quite stretch to that. I can say that I embrace the journey I am on, that I will see the positives, that I will keep holding tight onto the sides of the rollercoaster and that I recognize the wonderful gifts I am receiving on the way.
Walk with me 
Tremendous post, Sonia. You deserve the softness (inner and outer). You have also made me think about my own life and what adversities can also be looked at in a more positive light. I am not walking your particular path, but your honesty and courage shine through and make me want to examine my own. Mine is not an ideal life (with a lot of external and unwarranted drama). But to still want to keep changing, adapting and looking upward and forward is a valuable gift. And balance comes with such thoughts. If I’m lucky, so does a sense of acceptance and peace (although not always, I have to admit). Note re eyebrows: At my newest age of 55 (can’t believe it…), my own eyebrows are dismally attired and I have to add to them daily (without looking like Tammy Lee Baker or someone with a bad facelift), otherwise I would be all round face and eyes, perhaps like a raccoon or the like (except not as attractive). Yours will grow back. Mine have given up the ghost permanently, I think… xxxx
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Oh Margaret – you really are an absolute star :). Thank you – for these words, for shaving your hair and for even kindly losing eyebrows with me ;).
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