I heard something today that means a lot and provided some clarity.

You shouldn’t drag anchors from the past into the bright lights of your future.

That applies to so many things.

I’m ready to be happy. My life is finally starting to make sense again. I’m feeling good. I think I’ve found a way to get this arthritis under control. Radiation will be over at the end of June. My hair is growing back. I’m taking it back. I’m ready to be a more mature version of that person I was back in November.

My relationship may not work out, but I survived cancer so I can survive this too. I’m a survivor. I’m proud of myself.

It’s time to be me. I need to be true to myself. I’m going to do the things I’ve been wanting to do. I’m going to go on vacation. I’m going to move to the city. I’m going to buy the car that I want.

My partner sent me this text and it really hit home, because he’s right:

“You are a young, sexy as fuck, hot ass, unbelievably beautiful woman, whose intelligence and wit is unmatched, whose sense of humor is unrivaled, and whose compassion and devotion for her friends is total. You’ve beaten the odds every single time, in any given point in your life. Someone like you should have ended up in a trailer park shooting drugs. Instead, you own a successful law firm. Someone like you should have allowed her emotionally-charged circumstances to completely prevent having a normal life. Instead, you take each challenge on the chin and press forward. You are strong as a brick shithouse (even though you don’t know it); you are the sweetest, most precious girl I know; and most importantly, your best days are ahead of you.”

I can’t expect anyone else to love me if I can’t love myself. Starting today I am going to be my biggest fan.

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