I Am Not This Body

January 29, 2019. I picked up the film from the imaging center at 11am and toted it around with me all day long, never thinking to look at it. If I had, I would have noticed the word before my breast doctor said it to me. The word that changed everything:

Malignant.

I could have fixated on these definitions:
1. Tending to produce death or deterioration
2. Disposed to cause harm, suffering, or distress deliberately 
3. Very dangerous or harmful in influence or effect.

But I chose to see these:
1. Characterized by uncontrolled growth.
2. Likely to rebel against authority.

October 1, 2019. Nearly nine months since my diagnosis of breast cancer, seven months post-lumpectomy, four months post-radiation, I received my new diagnosis, pronouncing me clean, clear, and cancer free. I am flourishing boundlessly, following pathways that break from tradition, feeling edgy, raw, and real.

Here are my scars. I am beautiful, I am not this body. I am quirky, miraculous, inimitable, never to be repeated in the universe again. Thank you, cancer. Life, it’s you and me forever. Game on.
Photo by @michalminstertal