Every year at Halloween, the sidekick takes our kid out to trick or treat, and I stay to pass out candy. This works well, sometimes the sidekick even dresses up, and I like to plop on a witch hat or something, just to make it fun for the kids at the door.
This year I was considering being an Amazon… since they supposedly chopped off a breast to be better archers, and that seems pretty fierce, and my son thought I was going to be a Ninja like him… but I told him this morning, I’m already a ninja.
So I bought this shirt, and I’ll get a tiara, and since I won’t have hair, maybe a pink sassy wig…
Here’s the deal. I’ve had a lot of people tell me I’m still beautiful and it comes from the inside, etcetera, etcetera, yadda, yadda, blah, blah, blah.
But I was listing to my favorite Spotify list for when I’m feeling pissy , “Not to be effed with,” and Beautiful by Christina Aguilera came on and it occurred to me, if “your words won’t bring me down,” they really won’t bring me up either.
I have to get my OWN shit together. As we tell my son often, no one else can control how you react to things. I have to own my own reaction.
So yeah, I’ve gotten a little wallowy.
But in the words of today’s “poet” Katy Perry, in her eff you break up song, Part of Me, “throw your bombs and your blows, but you’re not gonna break my soul!”
Fuck you cancer.
I will undoubtedly have more shitty days. And I didn’t have the best physical self image before this started, so I may still be fighting that bugaboo for months and likely years to come (38 years of habit are hard to break) but despite my wonderful friends and family, none of them can fight the cancer or self-image, or anything else for me.
This princess is going to have to put on her big girl panties and rescue herself!