Thank you for this! Your story is so different than mine that it was eye-opening to read all the emotions you carried. (I had two easy pregnancies and then an unrelenting fibrous uterus... I was glad to be rid of it as I was done using it anyway. Like I was dropping it off at GoodWill or something. )
However, your story is so important to me now as I'm walking along a cancer journey with a dear friend... she's been on the Pill for more than 20 years and has NO IDEA of her true monthly cycle. Her cancer treatments will push her into instant menopause and she's going in truly blind. Your essay will help me help her. Thank you!
Anne Marie, I love your humor - "Like I was dropping it off at GoodWill or something." I had to laugh. That's great.
It also means a lot to hear that my story was helpful to you in an empathic sense, as you accompany your friend who is going through cancer and will be thrust into clinical menopause. It certainly feels strange, but it's good you are with her in this. I appreciate you being here and commenting!
Anne Marie, you are a great friend. Chemo rendered me infertile. I wanted kids, so I adopted a child. The cancer journey is no easy trek, and it's great that your friend has a true friend in you to walk with her.
Jeannie, your essay has me reflecting on the intricate relationship between our bodies and our sense of self. It raises a question for me: How do we navigate the shifting landscape of our identity when our physicality changes in such a significant way? Your exploration of this theme is both thought-provoking and deeply moving.
Thanks, Alexander. I always smile when I see your thoughtful, reflective comments. It's something I think every human has to explore throughout their lives. Bodies change. So do we.
Hi Jeannie, I feel for you. It must have been so traumatic to lose that essential part of you, especially since it is the reason you have your children. Even if it's medically necessary, it's still a loss of an essential part of you. Your journal entries are so poignant. The following touched me, too: "If you live in a body that is stricken with illness or pain or physical and psychological limitations, honor the ways your body has served you well. Attune your inner ear to the needs of your body. Nurture it."
I need to take your advice on this. As you know, I'm a breast cancer survivor. I eventually had a double mastectomy with reconstruction. In the breast cancer world, many of us refer to mastectomies as amputations, which they are. While some insensitive people envy my "boob job and tummy tuck," I can say, nothing is further from the truth. Not only is much of my torso numb, but my breasts are not my originals, which I had loved how they looked. But once cancer arrived, I was eager to get rid of them. However, body image issues have persisted.
So I want to nurture my body and feel more positive about it. One way of coping is that I am oil painting a series of nude women; the series is called Breast Cancer, Female and Young.. It's cathartic and helps me better cope with the tragedy that happened to me.
Anyway, I do understand what it's like to lose a body part, and I'm sorry for all the pain and anguish you've gone through. As you say, we need to nurture our bodies.
Wow, Beth that is a lot. I'd love to see your oil painting if you feel comfortable sharing it. It sounds profound, like a very healing way for you to process how you feel about your changing body. I really appreciate everything you share. Thank you for being so vulnerable.
This part resonated with me: "It’s not that I wish I could get pregnant again. I don’t. It’s that I don’t have the option anymore, because my uterus has been permanently removed from my body."
I'm glad you wrote about this. It's important that talking about these very real feelings and struggles not be taboo.
Thank you for this! Your story is so different than mine that it was eye-opening to read all the emotions you carried. (I had two easy pregnancies and then an unrelenting fibrous uterus... I was glad to be rid of it as I was done using it anyway. Like I was dropping it off at GoodWill or something. )
However, your story is so important to me now as I'm walking along a cancer journey with a dear friend... she's been on the Pill for more than 20 years and has NO IDEA of her true monthly cycle. Her cancer treatments will push her into instant menopause and she's going in truly blind. Your essay will help me help her. Thank you!
Anne Marie, I love your humor - "Like I was dropping it off at GoodWill or something." I had to laugh. That's great.
It also means a lot to hear that my story was helpful to you in an empathic sense, as you accompany your friend who is going through cancer and will be thrust into clinical menopause. It certainly feels strange, but it's good you are with her in this. I appreciate you being here and commenting!
Anne Marie, you are a great friend. Chemo rendered me infertile. I wanted kids, so I adopted a child. The cancer journey is no easy trek, and it's great that your friend has a true friend in you to walk with her.
Jeannie, your essay has me reflecting on the intricate relationship between our bodies and our sense of self. It raises a question for me: How do we navigate the shifting landscape of our identity when our physicality changes in such a significant way? Your exploration of this theme is both thought-provoking and deeply moving.
Thanks, Alexander. I always smile when I see your thoughtful, reflective comments. It's something I think every human has to explore throughout their lives. Bodies change. So do we.
Thank you! I always smile when I see your newsletters. They are always so interesting and spark thoughts.
I'm glad to hear that, Alexander! I'd love it if you shared the essays you feel would most speak to the people you know.
I have shared with several clients over the past few weeks!
Wow, I really appreciate that, Alexander. Thank you for your support!
Hi Jeannie, I feel for you. It must have been so traumatic to lose that essential part of you, especially since it is the reason you have your children. Even if it's medically necessary, it's still a loss of an essential part of you. Your journal entries are so poignant. The following touched me, too: "If you live in a body that is stricken with illness or pain or physical and psychological limitations, honor the ways your body has served you well. Attune your inner ear to the needs of your body. Nurture it."
I need to take your advice on this. As you know, I'm a breast cancer survivor. I eventually had a double mastectomy with reconstruction. In the breast cancer world, many of us refer to mastectomies as amputations, which they are. While some insensitive people envy my "boob job and tummy tuck," I can say, nothing is further from the truth. Not only is much of my torso numb, but my breasts are not my originals, which I had loved how they looked. But once cancer arrived, I was eager to get rid of them. However, body image issues have persisted.
So I want to nurture my body and feel more positive about it. One way of coping is that I am oil painting a series of nude women; the series is called Breast Cancer, Female and Young.. It's cathartic and helps me better cope with the tragedy that happened to me.
Anyway, I do understand what it's like to lose a body part, and I'm sorry for all the pain and anguish you've gone through. As you say, we need to nurture our bodies.
Wow, Beth that is a lot. I'd love to see your oil painting if you feel comfortable sharing it. It sounds profound, like a very healing way for you to process how you feel about your changing body. I really appreciate everything you share. Thank you for being so vulnerable.
This part resonated with me: "It’s not that I wish I could get pregnant again. I don’t. It’s that I don’t have the option anymore, because my uterus has been permanently removed from my body."
I'm glad you wrote about this. It's important that talking about these very real feelings and struggles not be taboo.
Thanks @Tiffany Chu . I’m still trying to compost the deeper meaning behind this.