For months after my cancer diagnosis and surgery, my only thought was to return to the life I once knew. I clung to that hope as if it were a life raft. I envisioned the moment when all the treatments were behind me, when my appearance would be “fixed,” and I could slip back into the person I used to be—before the hospital gowns, before the radiation, before I looked in the mirror and barely recognized myself. But no one tells you this: normal isn’t something you can simply reclaim. And over time, I began to understand—perhaps it never should be.
After a traumatic experience that changed my body and my perspective forever, it’s natural to long for the past simply because it feels familiar and safe. Yet, the person you were then didn’t have the knowledge, the scars, or the growth you carry now. The truth is, returning to what was before isn’t possible because that version of you has long since faded away.
I spent so much time daydreaming about resuming “normal” that I lost sight of the present. I waited endlessly to feel whole, to feel strong, to feel like I was worthy again. But this waiting slowly paralyzed me. Eventually, I began to wonder: what if normal isn’t a place you arrive at, but a state you have to create?
I stopped waiting for the perfect moment, for the next surgery, or for a mirror that would reflect who I once was. Instead, I began taking small steps toward a life that exists right now. I moved my body to build strength. I cooked meals that sparked my curiosity. I immersed myself in learning new languages, playing the piano, and writing fresh stories—not because I was fully “recovered,” but because I realized that life wasn’t waiting for me to feel complete. Life was waiting for me to show up as I am today.
I came to understand that “normal” isn’t a fixed destination; it’s an ever-changing journey that can even be better than what came before if we stop comparing our present to a past that no longer fits. So I stopped waiting and started building—not a version of who I was, but the groundwork for who I am becoming.
