Tougher Than TWOmurs

Today is Labor Day and yesterday marked one month since I had my bilateral mastectomy. Like most of you, today I reflected on the summer of 2015. I can’t believe all of the shit that happened this summer. I survived it. So did you.

I truly do love all seasons equally, but summer is the only one I always mourn the end of. Summer never seems long enough, and it always feels so far away in the dead of winter. I get serious FOMO when I see pictures on social media of my friends and family going on awesome excursions, vacations, boat trips, wine tastings, outdoor concerts, beach days, Sunday fundays, all the things that make summer incredible.

I didn’t get to do every single thing I wanted to this summer, but there are lots of things I’m grateful for… I WAS able to accomplish most of the things I wanted to do.

I didn’t have to work my 9-5 corporate job most of the summer. Now I know what teachers feel like.

I slept in and napped when I needed to, and when I wanted to… I never get to do that.

I went to the Bahamas for the first time.

I tended to my garden and made meals with my own veggies. Stuffed zucchini blossoms, yo.

I spent July 4th with my best friends on a beautiful boat with lots of champagne and wine.

 

I took my goddaughter to see Taylor Swift, her first concert, and enjoyed every second of it.

I went to the beach, dined outside and danced at the most fabulous gay club with my best girlfriends.

  

I went to Maine with my family and crashed a neighbor’s house party… this was special. I’ve never crashed a party. And I was all alone.

This group of awesome new friends, all my age, welcomed me with open arms and cold beers. I didn’t tell them anything about my health, just that I was looking to make friends and party.

I later found out the woman who lives there lost her sister to breast cancer only one month prior. She misses her. This party was her 30th birthday celebration, and I didn’t know it at the time, but there was something missing for her… a big gaping hole where her sister would have stood, celebrating with them all. She didn’t tell me until after she read my first blog post.

She said I had the same exact attitude as her sister did. There are no coincidences in this life… I heard a raging party down the road from my cottage and there was no way I wasn’t going to be a part of it. I’m so glad I went.

The universe never stops working and our angels are everywhere, people… pay attention.
  

I witnessed some pretty incredible sunsets.

  

I ate a lot of lobster and ice cream (too much).

   

I went braless… a lot.

I partied with my best girlfriends from college, in NYC, and it was one of the best nights we’ve all had together in a long ass time. These bitches spared no expense and surprised the shit out of me with food, decorations, a trip to the salon and a danceparty that continued until the sun came up. We all agree, we have to stop letting life get in the way of regular outings like these… a cancer diagnosis should not be the reason we get together to have fun like that.

 

   

I went to LA to see my brother and his family. There’s something about California that feels like home. I might live there one day. I took drives, took in the views, saw friends I don’t see often, spent a day at the spa and snuggled with my little muffins.

     

I had my parents waiting on me hand and foot and luxurious surroundings to recover in.

 

I had visits from friends and family I rarely get to see. We drank a lot of wine, ate desserts and laughed about things people pretend not to talk about.

 

I spent a weekend in the Hamptons with my best friends and showed the local elite how you rock a pair of drains and fake tits without anyone knowing.

 

I single-handedly helped the local florist pay her year’s rent and accepted the most gorgeous bouquets and gifts from my very thoughtful loved ones.

     

I did things that soothed my soul and allowed me to grieve the loss of my former life.

I treated myself for making some of the toughest decisions I’ve ever had to make in my life so far.

I saved my own life by having a double mastectomy… and that only took seven hours of my summer.

Nelson Mandela said, “It always seems impossible, until it’s done.” I’m really proud of myself. I don’t know how it all happened so fast, but I’m pretty sure I deserve a vacation… or a new pair of louboutins. After all, if you’re gonna kick ass, you need some kick ass shoes.

Cheers to the summer I loved to hate and hated to love. And cheers to you for sticking by me through ever minute of it, even when you didn’t know it.

And if you think your summer sucked, it definitely might have… but I bet there were a bunch of moments that didn’t suck so badly… be thankful for all of them. ❤