When I was told about my treatment plan to cure me of cancer I remember everything being a massive blur, why are medical terms so complicated? Although to be fair I was so unwell I can't remember much before starting treatment however one thing I'll never forget being told was I would be losing my hair, I was 20 years old and I was faced with losing my hair, a lot of people said "it'll grow back" "it's a small price to pay to save your life" these people have never had cancer. These people have never watched their identity fall out strand by strand every day, these people have never watched their hair literally fall out clump by clump in the shower. These people don't have a fucking clue, losing your hair is traumatic and devastating it's a physical representation of cancer and being unwell.
I was very lucky that I was able to get a free real hair wig courtesy of Teenage Cancer Trust but couldn't look forward to it. I was lucky that being in Liverpool meant I never had to worry about eyebrows and eyelashes it's pretty much part of a scouse girls DNA but my hair was everything, I'd spend too much money on hair products that done the same thing I just wanted different brands, I hadn't been my natural hair colour for over 5 years, I was obsessed with looking at mermaid hair on Bleach London's Instagram and before I finished uni it was my goal to get it dyed at Bleach London's salon. As I went back to London for the first time since being diagnosed to properly leave Station Road and Hendon it was my closest friend at uni who got me excited about the thought of a wig, this is my chance to experiment, be a colour I've never been before. I was treated like a queen when I had my wig consultation at an Andrew Collinge salon in April last year and the hairdresser tried to be sensitive and was showing me all the darker shades, he tried on a blonde wig to fit my weirdly small head, this wig was blonde and from that moment there was no going back, I wanted to be a blonde and so a blonde wig was ordered and I was obsessed with it. Having a wig was a new physical representation of me, I always struggled telling friends I had cancer and some of my closest friends didn't find out till after I'd finished treatment. So many friends saw the new blonde hair and the weight loss and some even said "you look so good and healthy" oh actually I have cancer... The wig genuinely was so good and actually looked like it could be my hair and I always got a kick out of telling strangers after they complimented my hair that I get it done in Andrew Collinge. It was more than just a new hair colour though, it was my cover up, the moment that wig went on, eyebrows drawn on and coatings of mascara I didn't look sick any more I didn't look like a cancer patient. I have so much respect for cancer patients who choose not to wear a wig, you're my inspiration and look so beautiful, I've met lots of girls who are my age who chose not to wear one and they look amazing, the bald look is beautiful! I would spend hours looking for make up tutorials for young girls with cancer and come across Baldly Beautiful on YouTube who is amazing. Like everything with cancer there's no right or wrong decision when it comes to choosing what's best for you and for me it was living in my wig, blondie didn't have cancer she had really nice hair courtesy of Andrew Collinge. As soon as the treatment was over as with every other ignorant comment, attention was soon towards my natural hair, I didn't mind people asking about it I just hated the thought of having short hair I was fake smiling when people were showing me pictures of Emma Watson and other beautiful women with short pixie cuts, I love them but not for me I just wanted my natural long hair back! "Your hairs getting so thick lose the wig it's coming back now" I wasn't just using my wig as a security blanket I was genuinely loving being blonde, it never got greasy, very rarely needed cutting and I never needed my roots doing. As my hair got thicker and longer it did start to get annoying as soon as I was out of public or with people I was comfortable with then the wig would come off I didn't care what I looked like I needed to be comfortable. I was spending too long worrying about tucking my natural hair in my wig. It was shortly after being away with Teens Unite and seeing another teen who was my age and no longer wearing a wig saying how nice it is to feel free that I decided, it was time for blondie to die. So I built it up in my head, this was my time to have short hair, rock a pixie cut and embrace it. Halsey an artist I've been listening too for a while had recently got a buzz cut, I love her style and her ability to go against everything the media tells her to look like, because if we strip it all back that's primarily what I was struggling with, I wouldn't look feminine any more or what a 22 year old girl should look like, long hair connotes being feminine and I no longer looked like that. But that feeling of being free and not having to tug at my hair was so good, I have enough anxiety as it is and if I went for the short hair I would no longer be anxious about my natural hair poking out or if it was too windy outside, if my niece wanted to pull her hair I'd no longer have to worry about ruining her childhood as she ragged my wig off. My younger cousins were too young to understand what cancer was and they loved playing with my hair, I wouldn't have to worry about them pulling it off and ruining their childhoods either. So off I went back to Andrew Collinge for a pixie cut, I am lucky that short hair for women does seem to be a bit of a thing at the moment and the hairdresser done an amazing job but I hate it I fucking hate it, I'm not a fan of short hair but it shows progress, it's a massive step for me mentally to move on from wearing a wig. So many people have complimented me but I can't get my head round it, the people I met whilst blonde were praising me for going for such a dramatic change, now was my time to tell them about the shit storm of last year, one day I'll be able to not have to explain the cancer! One thing that is helping is make up, I'm obsessed with darker lip colours to look a bit more feminine and am actually having fun with trying different looks to compliment my short hair, Deep Smoked Purple by Mac is the one! Day by day I'm getting better and more used to it and ,my blonde wig is still there if i want to wear it, I'm looking forward to throwing people off by turning up in my blonde wig when they get used to the short dark hair, my hair is my choice and it's getting thicker and stronger every day, it'll take a while to get used to it but I should embrace it I'm still funny with people saying it's a small price to pay but loosing my hair was more traumatic than throwing my guts up after chemo every other Monday, it sounds dramatic but it was, I was off my face on anti sickness pills for the majority of the time on treatment but waking up to a pillow full of hair and watching it get thinner and thinner everyday was torture, now it's thick and I look like Leo Sayer, but like the blonde, this short curly pixie cut is the start of a new era, post cancer, moving on and getting stronger.
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The titles a little misleading isn't it? Stay with me though because soon you'll learn just hoe important it is to stroke someone, preferably at least once a day.
Last week it was the reunion activity stay with my favourite charity Teens Unite, it's hard to believe that it's been 8 months since I first met all these beautiful humans and fist got involved with this charity, this also means that it's been 8 months since my last chemo and time is moving way to fast. It was nice knowing I'd be meeting up with familiar faces who've been through the same bullshit and knowing what to expect and to have a break away from all the shit and be able to be inspired and surrounded by good company again. One activity that really stood out for me was the Shine workshop led by Cliff Findlay. I'm a bit funny with motivational speakers mainly cause you can see through the shit they're spouting and obviously don't practice what they preach also I'm usually inspired for about 2 seconds, Also one of the most annoying things about motivational speakers is their refusal to accept failure and despite trying our hardest sometimes things just don't go our way and we can't control every aspect of our lives. I get easily distracted and bored with listening to someone ramble on about becoming the second coming of Jesus but Cliff was different, Cliff was more of a realistic speaker who recognised that while we should aspire to be who we want to be we're humans and humans can and will fuck up. I admire someone who says "hiii I've fucked up I still have my flaws but this is what I want to do and I'm going to get there just give me 5 years" as opposed to "I'm the best flawless human in the world and everything in my life is organic and pure". So I was faced with a 20 page booklet asking me about my goals, on the first page I was asked what age I think I'm going to die, this has always been a touchy subject despite being faced with a life threatening illness, I don't see the point predicting when I'm going to die, the thought of me dying or being dead is irrelevant to me I don't see it as a motivator for me to achieve my goals either. You could either be sat in a rocking chair comfortable knowing you've achieved all you've wanted to or you could be hit by a bus tomorrow at the ripe old age of 22 life death doesn't care about your age, so I skipped that activity and moved on to the 3 things I like about myself, why is this the hardest question we can ever be asked? Why is it easy to say three things we hate about ourselves but not what we think we're good at? Because our brain is programmed to be a little bitch and our beliefs become our thoughts which become our words which become our actions. One of the best things Cliff taught me was everything that I can't control is bullshit and irrelevant opinions, for example one of my goals is to see Liverpool win the Premier League, that's bullshit and not because Liverpool are currently mid table but because I have no control over it, is it really a life goal, it'd be nice to experience and to tell people I was there but it's irrelevant and I wouldn't gain much from it. Another more important thing we can't control is how other people perceive us. We've all got a goal in our heads that someone doesn't approve of and we will be affected by this whether that person is important to us or an old high school friend we're affected by other peoples judgements of us and it's bullshit, so you don't want to upset your parents because you realise university is no longer for you, doesn't matter it's not their life or their decision, you want to travel the world but your Nan is worried about money and your safety, ask her for a tenner and say you'll call her and tell her what the weather is like. You want to become a sports journalist but that sexist arse hole thinks you've got too much vagina, who gives a shit? He probably still gets his mum to do his tea for him every night. With the release of the Panama papers this week and Donald Trump being a genuine contender to be the next US President, society is confirmed to be fucked so we might as well have some fun and do this weird thing were we're nice to strangers and actually try and achieve what we dream of , we're all going to die anyway. A lot of people tell us to achieve our goals but do we even know what our goals are? Goals aren't just what we want as a job when we grow up or where we want to live, they're especially not what we see on social media and comment 'goals' on. That's all a bit too broad and a bit too overwhelming, I like to think of goals as something to aim for in every aspect of our life and as the Shine booklet points out there are a lot of aspects; social, physical, spiritual, financial, mental, work, family and personal. Fill all them in and we have a lot to aim for. The next page told me to fill in an aim for every aspect of my life again this time with an emotional connection, what would make me die happy? All of a sudden I'm no longer thinking about Liverpool winning the premier league sitting in the Kop with my dad, I'm imagining meeting my deadlines reporting on Liverpool winning the premier league, sitting at Anfield on the phone typing away, because even though I can't control what Liverpool do I'm still allowed to dream about it. I'm ignoring all the sexist and misogynist comments I've had the pleasure of hearing at the football and ignoring the fact that when I had the pleasure of working behind a bar in the media room at Wembley stadium at an England game, I was the only female there surrounded by male sports journalists. Back to the Shine workbook and now I had to narrow it down to three goals, one short term, one medium and one long and I had 5 years to achieve this, sounds a bit heavy but break your long term goal down and take it step by step and all of a sudden it's not to scary and actually quite realistic. Now bring in that you don't give a shit about other peoples opinions and what society expects of you and you're the most important person, that goal will actually be a reality. There have been plenty of times when I've said when I grow up I want to be a writer especially in sports and I've been told its not a real job, not very realistic or what normal people do, it's not very secure or guaranteed to pay well. I've even been told I'm dyslexic so I can't do that I'm not financially motivated and does that mean that all the writers out there are aliens? Yes sometimes my dyslexia gets in the way but it only means I take longer writing something and reading over it. I also want to travel the world, 'but that's expensive' 'you won't last long on your own' 'it's not realistic'. Yes I'm a liability I'm on my 3rd phone in a year after dropping two down the toilet and actually flushing one but no one told me that means I have to stay locked up in the one city for the rest of my life and also there's this thing called saving your money, you don't spend it all and put it in a savers account and overtime you make enough money to travel somewhere, it's a magical concept I know. Now comes the stroking part, aka the moment I completely lost it, if you stroke something it gets stretchy and grows (it took a good 3 minutes to stop laughing and carry on writing because of this and its 2 o clock in the morning) to be fair Cliff had a point we do grow when someone strokes us... but a stroke doesn't have to be physical, it can be something as simple as being nice and saying thank you or a little smile,a compliment can go along way, despite being on social media almost every moment of the day and thinking we know too much about that person we met pissed in a sticky club toilet, we know nothing about what;s going on in peoples lives we don't know what people are thinking what they're going through and a smile just might be the best thing they experience that day. Although a stroke a day is being a bit of a challenge for me, the same day I decided I would be nice to strangers I crossed a road to avoid talking to one of those charity people about homeless people, they are a bit full on and before I know it I'll probably be asking the bank for a loan to save all the homeless people, I'm sorry street charity stalkers you're fucking annoying and I'm to gullible for you. However I will try and be not so resting bitch face and stroke other people with a smile. So thank you Cliff and Teens Unite, I'm now ready to cut toxic people out my life, accept people can be knobs and not give a fuck about peoples opinions especially about me, I have my goals that I will work every day to achieve and not let things I can;t control have too much of an impact. Ever since I was a little girl I wanted to be a sports journalist, a bullshit battle with cancer might have postponed me but I won't let it stop me. You go out there and have some fun with this fucked up society, don't be caught on the hamster wheel that is life, you be you and do whatever the fuck you want to do, I'll be rooting for you anyway. |