Every time I meet someone new, I feel nervous. I’m a people person and I love getting to know people, but more often than not I find the first few minutes (possibly longer) of a new encounter excruciatingly awkward. I’m not like my Mother who embraces new people with ease. I have to work incredibly hard to forge conversations, often relying on a bank of stock questions that I pull out when faced with conversing with a stranger. To be honest, even thinking about one of those first time encounters makes me feel awkward.
“What do you do?” is one of the first things we’re asked when we meet someone new and I never know how to answer. I worry about the “what do you do” question for reasons beyond being unable to define my job. One of my key beliefs is that work is not who we are, it is just what we do and I have long since struggled with the fact that our work is usually the first thing we’re asked about. Is that really what defines us? Is there a moral value attached to our careers? When I was interning, I muttered about being an editorial assistant. In my last full-time job, I used to say I worked in marketing, often redirecting the attention to my husband and his infinitely more “grown up job” putting myself down for “messing around on the internet while he’s actually doing something that makes a difference”. Now, I often still defer to Chris’ grown up job but mainly because I don’t know how to define myself. I do so much more than just one thing Am I a writer? Am I a copywriter? Do I work in marketing? Do I tell people I’m writing a book? Because that leads to more questions and ones which are immediately very revealing and very personal. And it means I drop the breast cancer clanger pretty quickly.
Since being sick, something I’ve really struggled with is whether I’m “letting” cancer “define” me. The inverted commas around both of these words is important – because I think they both carry a moral judgement. Both have agency attached to them. Both have negative connotations. Because in “letting” cancer “define” me, I’m passing the power from my hands into the “hands” (ha – that’s quite a funny image. A tumour with hands) of a few mutated cells and allowing them to control the narrative of my life. It is something we are told we must not do. “We must not let cancer define us because then it wins”. There are countless articles on the internet telling us just that. But my career is so intertwined with my life outside of working hours now. And a big part of that is my experience with cancer. It’s led to me writing my book, it’s all over my social media channels, it’s smattered across the internet on various websites (including this one, obviously).
To say I am “letting” cancer “define” me comes with a myriad of problems I think, similar to the idea that the way I choose to earn money defines me. Because it suggests that there’s nothing more to me than cancer and my job. It doesn’t allow for my beliefs or my personality traits to come through. There’s no space left for the other experiences I’ve had. And that word “letting” suggests a weakness in a way.
As part of the bigger picture though, would it be a bad thing to let cancer “define me”? It’s a thing that happened. It’s a big thing that happened. And it has dominated my life for the last three years. It changed my life. So, by definition, doesn’t that mean it has defined me in a way? Why does it have this negative connotation attached? I mean, other than the fact that it’s a thing that tried to kill me. Obviously that’s not so great.
Cancer comes up for me again and again. It is pretty much unavoidable. I know this isn’t the case for every person who has experienced cancer, but it is the case for me. It is so intrinsically linked with pretty much everything I do that I really care about. It’s why I’m a Boobette for CoppaFeel! It is is why I am a trustee for the charity. It is why I am self employed. It is why I can’t commit to working more than three days a week. It is why, until recently, I was in the hospital every couple of months. It has changed my view on the world, it has changed my view of myself. It has changed my relationships and altered my heart in ways I never could have expected.
But, before I got sick, there was so much more to me than my job, and now there is so much more to me than cancer. That said, it has helped me to achieve things I never would have imagined.
I don’t know if cancer has defined me. Before I started writing this blog post I was determined that it shouldn’t be a thing that defines me. I had a work meeting this morning and had to explain why I couldn’t commit to working more than three days a week. Yes, I could have said that it was because of other work commitments, but that’s not the whole truth and if there’s one thing cancer has given me, it’s the courage to be honest.
I was furious this morning because I felt like I had been reduced to a person who can’t be a standard, paid up member of society because I can’t work full time. But the truth is, I know that right now, if I tried to work four days a week, I’d make myself sick. I spent three days at a festival this weekend and in the 48 hours since I got home, I’ve slept for about 28 of them. And I’d have no time for the stuff that is a part of me beyond my work. For my CoppaFeel! stuff. For cultivating the relationships I have and cherish. For looking after my body and my mind and treating them to the things they deserve.
Now, I’ve sat down and worked through it though, ironed out some of the kinks in my mind, I think I’m probably not defined by cancer. Because no person is ever defined by one thing, or one facet of their life for long. We are countless characteristics and experiences and relationships and thus I can never just be a person who has had cancer.
More Than One Thing
I am a person who has had cancer. And it has had a huge impact on my life. But I am also a wife, a sister, a daughter, a friend, a writer, a copywriter, a social media manager, a journalist, a blogger, a lover of the sky. I am passionate and I am humble and I am grateful and I am a maker of great bread. I am a person who loves to read, who loves to write, who loves to cook, who loves thirty second dance parties and singing at the top of my voice. I am a person who has had cancer. I am a person who has survived cancer. I am a person who lives with cancer in their life, even though the cancerous cells have gone. But I cannot be reduced to just one thing. Humans, by their nature, are multifaceted. So even if cancer comes up in conversations with new people and even if it’s the thing they remember after meeting me for the first time, the more they get to know me, the more they’ll unravel the layers. Looks like cancer “survivors” (I use that word in inverted commas too) and ogres have layers in common.
No matter what narrative I choose for my cancer experience, no matter how much it impacts my life beyond my treatment, maybe I am defined by cancer, maybe I am not. Either way I am so much more than my experience of cancer. I am so much more.