Dear Warrior,

Photo by Brooke Cagle on Unsplash

Dear Warrior,

I see you.

I see you walking through this life with doubt if you'll survive this one big life.  I feel you when you're thinking all the thoughts.  Will you have to go through this pain forever?  Will you always be filled with dread?  Will you always have the lingering thought in the back of your head, "Am I going to get through this?"

In one answer, even if it's not believable:  Yes.

It could be anything in your life.  Anything.  But, you...You will defeat this obstacle.

Sometimes I feel like I'm fooling the universe by surviving all that I have.  From a childhood that no child should go through to a diagnosis of cancer, I have....survived.  I've been a warrior when no one fought for me and when I've had a whole army behind me, holding me up when I didn't have the strength to go on.  That made all the difference.

In a few weeks, I'll be celebrating three years of remission from Acute Myeloid Luekemia (AML).  This morning, driving into work, listening to my empowerment playlist, I realized that today is the first day of August.   The start of my ReBirthday month.  I felt a little teary-eyed, tears of accomplishment, tears that didn't fall because of sadness but because, yet again, I have survived.

So to you, my fellow warrior...

If you have survived, you've won.
If you are currently fighting, you're winning just because you can.
If you have relapsed, you are still winning.  You beat it once, you'll do it again.
If you are no longer with us because this stupid disease took you way too soon, you still won.  You're dancing in freedom.

And another thought you need to know.

There is something inside of you, warrior, that only you know.  In the darkest of nights, even the brightest of mornings, when all is quiet and it's just you and God...

You know how far you've come.
You know that a little cancer won't defeat your spirit.
You know there is something inside of you that no one else knows...

You.  Are.  The.  Storm.

I feel this in every fiber of my being.  Yes, every single time I go to a follow up with a doctor I fear that they'll tell me that cancer has won and is back.  Every.  Single.  Time.  But with every doubt, I also feel super powerful.  I know deep down in the space that no one knows but me that even if it does happen again, I'll be ready.  I don't stand down easily.

I don't want to tempt fate, though, but I'm here to say, "I've got this! I'm also ready for what you want to throw at me."  Every day I wake up thankful to be given one more morning to rise.  I rise.

You do, too.

And to you, my fierce love, the one who just found out - the one who just heard those words, "You have cancer,"- you are not alone.

This is a journey.  Yes, I know people will say, "I hate when people say that!  They don't know what I'm going through!  They don't know how I feel!"  Lovey, I do.  Cancer was the last damn thing I wanted to happen.  I hate that it happened to me - that it took my family to places I never wanted them to go - but it was a part of my life I had to go through.  I promise you that it will hurt like hell, but it will leave you with hope.  Hope and strength you never knew you had.  There is light at the end.  Pinky swear.

You'll learn this about everything...things you never thought about until now.

It's not just about cancer, either.  It's about who we are at the times that matter.  It's who we are when no one is looking.

I see you.


I'm proud of who you are.  Who you are becoming each day and who you will be in this mighty, big world.

I see you...and I'm happy with what is there.

With all my love,