Two years ago, my life stopped. For a split second, I hung on the precipice between my old life and whatever my new life would be. Before that moment, I was the same person I’d been for almost twenty-five years; after that moment I had no idea who I’d be.
And then everything started again. I thought I’d never smile again, that this new life was the worst thing imaginable. Two years later, I realize I couldn’t have been more wrong.
A year ago I marveled at the fact that my fault genetics no longer made me cry. Two years out, I’ve realized that not only am I not crying, I’m not necessarily viewing it at as a negative. It’s something I think and talk about without dramatics, without giving it the power to destroy me. I worry about others’ reactions, but I’m able to have a sense of humor about it. I’m matter-of-fact; it often carries no more weight than the fact that I have an under-active thyroid.
Because of this gene mutation, I’ve realized the value of my life. I’ve met amazing, strong women who will be my friends for life. I’ve learned that I’m stronger than I thought, that while my life changed with my positive test results, it didn’t end.
Today is my two-year anniversary and it took me until 7:00 at night to remember the significance of the day. I feel like that’s progress. While I have a long road ahead of me (surgery, recovery, more surgery, dealing with passing the mutation to my children, and all the other things that come with BRCA), I’m happy. I’m normal. Things might be different, but I’m still me… just a little bit stronger.