Growing up, I hated my body. Schoolgirl competition certainly got the best of me. I compared myself to my classmates, wanting to be thinner, prettier and well-liked…just like the girls others admired. This obsession continued when I entered college, only my self-loathing intensified. Bulimia became a way of life.
I was always disappointed with the body I was given.
At 39, I was diagnosed with cancer and thought, once again, my body had let me down. This was the ultimate betrayal.
But what I discovered in the months that followed my diagnosis was that I was strong and ready to fight…and so was the body that I abused and tormented for years. We were in this together – and finally on the same page. The body I hated for so many years quickly became my biggest ally. I wanted to live. We wanted to live.
I fought back.
My body fought back.
I am now 44 and cancer-free. A survivor…and thankful for the body I was given. I’ve learned to treat my body as a friend, and not as an enemy. I am strong. I am healthy. And I am so happy to be alive.