I Am A Work In Progress

I hate my neck. Or, more correctly, I hate my mother's neck, which I have inherited. And with all the video conferences this last year, I cannot get away from it.  I doubt anyone else notices, or if they do, they don't care. Why do I even care? Why indulge this vanity? (I remember learning for the first time in my 20s that vanity cuts two ways - obsession with your own beauty, and obsession with your own flaws - and all that time I thought hating my appearance was a good thing?)

I was driving the other day, listening to P!nk's "I am here," and thinking about how much I hate my neck.

Chorus:

I am here, I am here
I've already seen the bottom, so there's nothing to fear
Know that I'll be ready when the devil is near
I am here, I am here
All of this wrong, but I'm still right here
I don't have the answers, but the question is clear

I've always thought about my history of survival and addiction when I listened to this song - surviving my childhood, surviving foster care, surviving sexual abuse, surviving my eating disorder, surviving my alcoholism. And recovering from all of these things. These are all things I've seen the bottom of, and reasons I know I'll be ready when that devil is near.

The most recent thing I've survived, of course, is my breast cancer. And this was my train of thought while listening to this song the other day. But then it hit me. I am here. Other people are not. All of it's wrong, but I'm still right here.

When I was going through chemo, I got caught up with an infomercial about how to get rid of your wrinkles, and I thought, wouldn't it be nice to live so long as to have wrinkles... I swore I would be so grateful to get through this cancer that I would be happy to get old. And I am happy to have that chance. So, why, then am I obsessed with my neck?

I am still here. Nadine is not here. Karen is not here. Steve is not here. Other Steve is not here. And so on... all lost to cancer, but not me. I won't pretend to know why me and not them; I won't even go down that road at all. There's no benefit to it.

But I was reminded on that day, and as I have listened to this song every day since, that I am so lucky to still be here, that I cannot indulge in obsessing about how much I hate my neck. I'll keep working on it.

What vanity would you abandon, for gratitude of being here?