Today I was in my (worsening) chemo brain mode, crossed a main road to get to a bus stop, realised half way that actually the bus stop I needed was the same side of the road. So stopped half way, dragging 2 cases (on my way to the airport) and turned back….to the bemusement of a couple of drivers. 

I was recounting this by message the The Man – and said ‘I should have whipped my hat off’. Then realised that 6 months ago I would have said, ‘I should have whipped my top off’. And it really hit me (fortunately none of the cars did, allowing me to have this realization) that this summed it up completely. 

Instead of being a woman to the outside world, I am a cancer victim/sufferer/survivor. I get a lot of genuine compassion from strangers, which is truly heartwarming. But I don’t get male attention anymore. I don’t get seen as a woman – instead of admiring looks, I get either averted ones or just nothing. 

Part of it I know is not just the cancer giveaway of the baldness (easy to tell even when I have my head covered, which I do 90% of the time), but how I am in myself. Chemo is so exhausting I carry myself differently, make less effort in appearance and so on. 

It is so very, very important that I feel like a woman – powerful, sexual, attractive. Cancer and it’s treatment will not take that away from me.