My Journey~Healing, Faith, and Gratitude
This past months after my surgery has been one of the hardest journeys of my life. Ameloblastoma ~ an aggressive and rare tumor ~ has tested me in every possible way: physically, mentally, and emotionally. There were days I cried and broke down in silence, nights I felt completely overwhelmed, and moments when I could hardly recognize myself or the person staring back at me in the mirror. But in the quiet mornings, sitting on my couch, I found my strength. In those private moments, I learned to become my own motivation and to love myself all over again. That mindset shift ~the part you don’t see ~ became my true healing. Through it all, I want to truly thank everyone who showed up for me. To those who called, prayed, visited, or checked in constantly~you carried me in silence when I couldn’t carry myself. I felt the love, normal and your presence, for that, I’m endlessly grateful. 💖And to those who didn’t reach out ~ I learned something, too. Not everyone is meant to walk every step of your journey with you, and that’s okay. Sometimes, silence teaches us more than words will ever say. words ever can. It helped me see how much genuine love and support surrounds me~and that realization has been my greatest blessing.
Now, as I prepared for my second surgery, I do so with open eyes and a brave heart ~ fully aware of what’s ahead: another incision, another scar, another fight to heal. It hasn’t been easy, but I’m no longer afraid. This journey has showed me that healing isn’t about pain or weakness.
Every scar tells a story of survival, and I’m ready to face this next chapter with strength I never knew I had.
I won’t pretend it’s easy, but I know this next step is necessary for my healing. I’m trusting God, my doctors, and my own strength to carry me through.
Here’s to the journey ~ the one still unfolding, the one that’s uniquely mine.
My Doctor and nurses were truly heaven-handpicked by god. Their kindness, patience, and care went far beyond duty keeping me comfortable. They made me feel seen, loved, and cared for, like having a best friend by my side. I’ll never forget their compassion and the comfort they brought me when I needed it most. 💖👩🏻⚕️
When life throws curveballs, especially something as life-altering as a serious illness, it’s easy to feel lost, overwhelmed, and completely disconnected from yourself. My own experience with a challenging health journey taught me that while the physical healing is paramount, the emotional and mental transformation that happens alongside it can be even more profound. It truly was a time when I felt forced to re-evaluate everything, and surprisingly, that's where I found a deeper well of self-love and gratitude. One of the biggest shifts for me was learning to practice mindful self-compassion. Before, I was often my harshest critic, especially when I felt weak or struggled with recovery. But during those quiet moments, when I was at my most vulnerable, I started treating myself with the same kindness and understanding I would offer a close friend. This meant acknowledging the pain without judgment, giving myself permission to rest without guilt, and speaking to myself with gentle words. Simple acts like placing a hand over my heart and telling myself, "It's okay to feel this way, you're doing your best," made a world of difference. It wasn't overnight, but slowly, these small gestures built up a foundation of self-love that illness couldn't erode. Reclaiming my identity was another crucial step. When your body undergoes such a dramatic change, it’s easy to feel like you’ve lost a part of who you are. I realized I had to actively seek out what still brought me joy, even in small ways. Maybe it was listening to my favorite music, sketching for a few minutes, or simply watching the sunrise. These tiny connections to my pre-illness self helped remind me that I was still *me*, just evolving. Setting boundaries also became an unexpected act of self-love. Learning to say "no" to things that drained my energy, even when it felt difficult, was vital for my recovery and protecting my peace. And then there's gratitude, which truly became my anchor. It felt counterintuitive at first – how could I be grateful when facing such hardship? But I started a simple practice: a gratitude journal. Every evening, I'd list three to five things I was genuinely thankful for, no matter how small. It could be the comfort of my bed, a warm cup of tea, a kind message from a friend, or even just a moment of peace. This practice forced my mind to seek out the positive amidst the challenges, gradually reframing my perspective. It wasn't about ignoring the pain, but about recognizing that even in darkness, there are glimmers of light. I learned to be grateful for the strength I was discovering within me, for the unwavering support of my medical team, and for the simple gift of each new day. The healing process isn't just physical; it's deeply emotional. There were days filled with tears and frustration, and I learned the importance of allowing those emotions to surface without getting stuck in them. Sometimes, just acknowledging "I feel sad today, and that's okay" was enough. Talking openly with a trusted friend or family member, or even writing down my thoughts, helped me process what I was going through. Trusting the journey—trusting my doctors, my body's resilience, and a higher power—became a powerful tool. It meant letting go of the need to control every outcome and instead focusing on what I could do each day to aid my recovery. This journey has been a testament to the incredible resilience of the human spirit. It forced me to look inwards, to find strength I never knew existed, and to cultivate a profound sense of self-love and gratitude that now lights my path. It’s an ongoing process, but one that has undeniably made me a stronger, more compassionate individual.
