When we were young, the stories read to us, or the Disney movies we watched in excited anticipation, almost always ended with the phrase, “and they lived happily ever after,” usually after the girl married the handsome prince and they rode off into the sunset. No wonder our expectations for love and life are so high! Happily ever after is a high standard - no fights, bounced checks, dented cars, screaming children or skinned knees - just sunshine and bliss and happiness forever and ever.
I have always felt that our entertainment was warping our view of reality. On TV and in the movies, everyone is beautiful and whatever problems they are having are wrapped up neatly in an hour (minus 15 minutes for commercials of course), their dialogue is full of the kinds of things you wish you could think of on the spot during your fight with your boyfriend, and they look better cleaning their house than I did at my high school prom.
There are studies that say people who watch a lot of TV tend to have a misplaced view of reality – feeling that the world is a more dangerous place than it is because of the violence and crime they see on the tube. For me, it has always been the opposite. I see happy people with great lives, love and talent, when I watch, and I wish my life were like theirs.
It’s easy to forget the wardrobe and makeup team and time it took to make Jennifer Aniston look effortlessly beautiful, and we rarely see the mundane parts of anyone’s life on television. No taking out the garbage, or scrubbing the kitchen floor or dealing with the clogged toilet. Their lives seem exciting and fulfilled, they rarely fight with their friends, and if they do, it’s always quickly and easily resolved.
The problem arises when we compare ourselves to the characters on television, in books or movies without the reality check of their personal trainers and chefs to help them keep in shape and eat right, and the overall fantasy of the silver screen. The truth is that behind the scenes even the beautiful people have problems and feel insecure.
We all want “happily ever after,” but there’s no such thing. Life is a journey filled with ups and downs, joys and sorrows, triumphs and disappointments. And what a boring life happily ever after would be anyway. What would life be without the occasional pain that teaches us our most important lessons? We have to be careful not to bring a happily ever after attitude to our own life events too. Weddings can be wonderful, but marriage will certainly be bumpy at best.
In cancer treatment, it’s easy to believe that life AFTER will be joyous again too. When you are doubled over throwing up or staring at your eyebrow-less face or bald head in the mirror, even normal life can seem like a fairytale. However, it takes a while to bounce back, though others in your life might not quite get that. Hair doesn’t grow back in a day, and neither does the idea that you are invincible. That might not ever return. A new perspective is born; and thank goodness for that. It can mean a new appreciation for the good things in your life, and a recognition that the challenges we feel are so insurmountable in daily life, are really not that bad after all.
Life is beautiful – and ugly, and desperate, and hard, and unfair, and peaceful, and loving, and joyous. And even if we don’t always have control of what happens to us, we always have control about how we respond. I have found that many of my biggest problems are of my own creation – they’re all in my head - and only I am capable of getting them out. Margaret Bonnano said, “It is only possible to live happily ever after on a day to day basis.” It might even be an hour-by-hour basis or a minute-by-minute basis, and when we find ourselves slipping into despair or life hands us a new challenge, we have the power to overcome it, and to find ourselves a stronger person on the other side.
Showing posts with label beyond cancer. Show all posts
Showing posts with label beyond cancer. Show all posts
Saturday, January 10, 2009
Thursday, March 27, 2008
Questions
“How are you feeling?” People ask me that all the time now – especially those I see only occasionally. Or “How ARE you?” said slowly and with emphasis. “Is everything ok?” is another common one. All of these are code for “What’s going on with your cancer?” They are not inappropriate questions. The people asking them truly care about me, and want to know how I’m doing. I guess none of us is all that sure just how best to ask. I’m not totally sure how to answer either. I usually respond with something pithy and upbeat like, “Feeling great! Totally back to normal,” to let them know that I know what they’re really asking about.
I appreciate their concern and interest, but the truth is, I wonder if I will ever return to being just me, or will I always and forever now be the girl who had cancer? When I was in treatment, there was an outpouring of support – cards, phone calls (my cell phone bills were out of control), gifts, and visits. Those have ended now, and truthfully, I miss them. It’s such a balancing act – all this stuff that comes along with a cancer diagnosis. Many of us want to return to “normal” as soon as possible and never have any reminder that we were ever “sick.” Others immerse themselves in their newfound cancer community or get really involved with serving the cause – raising money, promoting awareness or taking some kind of leadership role.
I am somewhere in-between, I guess. On the one hand, I write a monthly column about my experience as a single woman dealing with cancer, and there are certain aspects of this disease and its causes that I think about regularly. On the other hand, I am completely confident that I am ok, and I don’t worry about the cancer coming back or think about it on a daily basis. None of us really knows, of course. The cancer could come back anytime, or strike someone new who just the day before never dreamed they would be affected.
Many cancer survivors have said there is no longer any such thing as normal, that we must get accustomed to a new normal. That idea makes a lot of sense. Cancer brings gifts as well as hardships, and for most of us, our lives will never be the same. For some, survival brings a new lease on life, the end to a destructive relationship they didn’t have the courage to leave before, or the advent of a new passion to explore personally or professionally. For others, it brings only surgery scars, early onset menopause and depression. Most of us probably have some combination of both the gifts and the doubts.
What is normal anyway? Does such a thing exist? And if it does, who really wants to be “normal?”
Whatever they are, others’ questions help us know that someone cares. This has always especially been the case for me. I’m not sure exactly where it came from, but somewhere along the way, I developed the idea that people who don’t ask me personal questions, don’t care about me. I have discovered that this is not always the case, but the idea persists for me nonetheless. Probably I feel this way because that is how I let others know I care about them – I ask them about their life, their recent trip, their ailing mother, or how their dissertation is going. It is my way of saying, “I remember that you went on vacation, and I’m interested in hearing about it because you’re important to me.”
A friend and I were having lunch the other day and she pointed out that we give others what we want them to give us. She brought it up in relation to her romantic relationship, but it really applies in any situation, and it is so true, isn’t it? The problem can occur when we fail to communicate what we really need, and assume the other person will just KNOW. Men complain about this all the time in regard to women. They want us to tell them what we want, but we too often expect them to divine it on their own – and some women go so far as to believe that if they really loved us, they would figure it out. Sometimes, even we don’t know what we want – we just know it’s something other than what we’re getting.
Given that, it’s important for us to ask ourselves the big questions as well. Two of the biggest are: Who are you, and what do you want? Some others: What makes you happy? What do you value? What can you not live without? Where are you going? What do you want to be when you grow up? What do you believe? The list is endless. Pick up a journal or sit down to meditate and start figuring out the answers. There is an old joke about Unitarian Universalists – the liberal faith tradition that I ascribe to – that we question the answers. Many turn to religion to answer their questions, and give them a theology to cling to. We, on the other hand, tend to stir up questions and encourage people to find their own path. That is probably why it appeals to me so much.
Whatever your questions, I hope you are able to answer them, and more importantly, I hope you have people in your life to ask!
I appreciate their concern and interest, but the truth is, I wonder if I will ever return to being just me, or will I always and forever now be the girl who had cancer? When I was in treatment, there was an outpouring of support – cards, phone calls (my cell phone bills were out of control), gifts, and visits. Those have ended now, and truthfully, I miss them. It’s such a balancing act – all this stuff that comes along with a cancer diagnosis. Many of us want to return to “normal” as soon as possible and never have any reminder that we were ever “sick.” Others immerse themselves in their newfound cancer community or get really involved with serving the cause – raising money, promoting awareness or taking some kind of leadership role.
I am somewhere in-between, I guess. On the one hand, I write a monthly column about my experience as a single woman dealing with cancer, and there are certain aspects of this disease and its causes that I think about regularly. On the other hand, I am completely confident that I am ok, and I don’t worry about the cancer coming back or think about it on a daily basis. None of us really knows, of course. The cancer could come back anytime, or strike someone new who just the day before never dreamed they would be affected.
Many cancer survivors have said there is no longer any such thing as normal, that we must get accustomed to a new normal. That idea makes a lot of sense. Cancer brings gifts as well as hardships, and for most of us, our lives will never be the same. For some, survival brings a new lease on life, the end to a destructive relationship they didn’t have the courage to leave before, or the advent of a new passion to explore personally or professionally. For others, it brings only surgery scars, early onset menopause and depression. Most of us probably have some combination of both the gifts and the doubts.
What is normal anyway? Does such a thing exist? And if it does, who really wants to be “normal?”
Whatever they are, others’ questions help us know that someone cares. This has always especially been the case for me. I’m not sure exactly where it came from, but somewhere along the way, I developed the idea that people who don’t ask me personal questions, don’t care about me. I have discovered that this is not always the case, but the idea persists for me nonetheless. Probably I feel this way because that is how I let others know I care about them – I ask them about their life, their recent trip, their ailing mother, or how their dissertation is going. It is my way of saying, “I remember that you went on vacation, and I’m interested in hearing about it because you’re important to me.”
A friend and I were having lunch the other day and she pointed out that we give others what we want them to give us. She brought it up in relation to her romantic relationship, but it really applies in any situation, and it is so true, isn’t it? The problem can occur when we fail to communicate what we really need, and assume the other person will just KNOW. Men complain about this all the time in regard to women. They want us to tell them what we want, but we too often expect them to divine it on their own – and some women go so far as to believe that if they really loved us, they would figure it out. Sometimes, even we don’t know what we want – we just know it’s something other than what we’re getting.
Given that, it’s important for us to ask ourselves the big questions as well. Two of the biggest are: Who are you, and what do you want? Some others: What makes you happy? What do you value? What can you not live without? Where are you going? What do you want to be when you grow up? What do you believe? The list is endless. Pick up a journal or sit down to meditate and start figuring out the answers. There is an old joke about Unitarian Universalists – the liberal faith tradition that I ascribe to – that we question the answers. Many turn to religion to answer their questions, and give them a theology to cling to. We, on the other hand, tend to stir up questions and encourage people to find their own path. That is probably why it appeals to me so much.
Whatever your questions, I hope you are able to answer them, and more importantly, I hope you have people in your life to ask!
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