I Found My Inner Voice Again

Do you occasionally look in the mirror and say to yourself, “I love you?” Honestly, I still find it difficult to say those three words to myself today. Five years ago, before I developed breast cancer, I would occasionally stop restlessly in front of the mirror. When it came up, I would nod approvingly at my appearance. I might give myself a quick pat on the back if I did something well. And when there were worry lines, I quickly put a smile on my face. But never did I say, “I love you.”

With the illness, I became aware of how often I disregarded my body, but also my negative feelings. My inner voice had fallen silent. Only when it cheered and sang was it allowed to speak up. I skillfully stifled the whispers, the quiet crying, and the helpless pleading for my own needs.

Cancer crumbled the strong stance of myself. Since then I try to meet myself with goodwill. Still the inner voice is quiet. Quite often I do not know what I want, what I need, and what my need is. It still happens automatically, dutifully taking care of others and adapting. But now I hear when my soul speaks up and wants to tell me, “This is not good for you.” And I pay attention, take time to care.

Even though the streets I walk are the same and life’s tasks have not changed, my life is not like it was before cancer. My circle of friends has shrunk and my pace has slowed. I have retired from the work world so I am no longer at the mercy of the pressures and stresses. I opened a grief café and give space to feelings and issues that have too little space in society. For a year now I have been at the turning point—to where, that is not determined. Today I stand firmly anchored in front of the mirror and look at myself with a friendly smile. Approvingly, I say to my likeness, “I like you just the way you are.”