Boys

For as long as I can remember I had the idea in my head that I would not get married until my late 20s, and therefore I was never in a serious relationship. However when I was in my late 20s, I dated the nicest guy for quite awhile. He was really sweet and fun, and although some of my friends disagreed, I thought he was handsome. We usually had a great time together even if we did nothing. Our relationship was just easy. It was like hiding away from the pressures of the "real world." With all that said, I never really planned to marry him even if his mother was ready to start making plans after about a year.

We had been dating about 4 months when I had my yearly cancer check-up. Even though I had been cancer-free over 10 years, I had a habit of spending a week or two before the big day making decisions on what I would do if I found out I had cancer again. Needless to say, I was not pleasant to be around prior to the visits. It may be hard to imagine, but I hadn't told my boyfriend about having cancer, and I didn't tell him about my appointment. I distinctly remember sitting in the waiting room at South Baldwin Hospital all by myself. As I sat there worrying about what my blood test and x-rays would show, it became more and more apparent that it would never be fair to bring someone in on that kind of life. I distinctly remembering a real sense of sadness that it wouldn't be right to allow someone to love me when my life might be cut short. I've never forgotten the feeling that I have a duty to protect people from me. Although my results were fine and my doctor told me not to worry about anymore yearly exams until I was 40, I never told my boyfriend about having cancer or the decision I made to protect people from loving me. I also felt a little twinge of guilt for the rest of our relationship that I was hiding these things. I justified it all by thinking that his mom knew my aunt and he was a friend of my cousin so he probably knew anyway.

Telling someone I had cancer when I was a teenager doesn't easily work its way into a conversation so I never brought it up with any of the guys I dated. That little twinge of guilt of not telling was always there. However, I enjoyed dating and being normal so much that I didn't want to risk losing that by spilling the beans.

Finally it all came out last year with a guy. He was fun, smart, outgoing, handsome, just fantastic in general. We hadn't been on many dates when he asked me about the two scars I have on my neck and near my collarbone. I panicked. I didn't want to stop things before they got started by telling him about the surgeries during my cancer treatment. I don't remember if I totally ignored the question or said something stupid about a knife fight (my usual answer that shuts people up quick), but I know I never mentioned cancer.

A few months later I saw a TV show about relationships and one of the key topics was sharing uncomfortable things from your past. The show advised getting things out in the open early. I decided that I had to talk about having cancer with this guy. I did not feel comfortable bringing it up, but I was committed to being honest if he gave me an opening. He gave me that opening a few weeks later when he asked again about how I got my scars. I was mortified, but I told him I had cancer when I was a teenager. He seemed to take it well, and even mentioned that could be a possible reason for the leg problems I was having. (He was right. I had to have both my hips replaced within a year of that conversation due to the long-term effects of chemo). I felt somewhat relieved that I had the courage to say it and he didn't freak out.

He dumped me the next week. He gave some cop-out reason that left me with no satisfaction. But what made it really hard on me was that I had trusted him with my secret, and it hadn't mattered. I'm sure he had no idea what a big deal it was for me to tell him that I had cancer. I had given him no reason to understand this. However, I felt, and sometimes still feel, like he stole this from me. Even though I still talk to him occasionally and have gone to dinner with him a few times since then, a tiny part of me thinks of him as the jerk who stole my cancer.

I say all this because I am stopping this pattern now. I had cancer. It's a part of my history, and it contributed to making me the fabulous person I am today. Up until now, I have given it more importance in my life than it deserves. I have let that one year overshadow the almost 33 other years of excitement, achievements, and joy. I will never again hide my cancer from anyone who is lucky enough to date me. Cancer survivor is only a fraction of who I am, and I don't need to protect anyone from me because of it.