There are so many days I grieve the woman I was before cancer. How do I move on from the pain? I can’t be the only one that asks these questions.

I ask, why me? Why a healthy, 31 year old? Why a mom of 2? Why a woman carrying not one, but two babies?

I miss the version of myself who didn’t know what it felt like to hear the words, “You have cancer.” The woman who made plans without checking a treatment calendar. The mom who could run on a few hours of sleep and still run around with the kids. The wife who had the energy to make a delicious meal. The daughter that didn’t drain all my parents’ energy. The person who didn’t consistently think about reoccurrence and leaving all the people I love.

For a while, I thought I had to leave her behind. In the “before cancer” chapter of my life. It’s hard to explain to others how I don’t feel like “myself” anymore. How I’m scared I won’t find my “new” self.

But I’ve realized something…

I’m not leaving that “before” version of myself behind. She’s with me every step of the way. And I don’t have to craft my “new” self in a just a few months.

She is still the reason I fight so hard. She reminds me how deeply I can love, laugh, dream, and hope. A reminder of how I was living before this. A reminder of how I can become better, stronger, and more present after conquering this.

Cancer changed me, but it didn’t erase me, even though sometimes I feel like it did. It added chapters I never wanted, making it a piece of my story, but not the whole story.

I’m learning to make space for both versions of myself, the woman I was and the woman I’m becoming. This “in between” stage won’t last forever.

If you’re grieving the person you were before your diagnosis, know this: you don’t have to let that person go. They can walk beside you every step of the way, to remind you of who you were, what you’re fighting for, and all that is to come.

She’s still here. And so are you. Keep moving forward 🩷

Thank you Jesus for this life.

Even when it hurts.