Learning to Love my Post-Cancer Body

If someone had told me that I would be dressing like 70’s sitcom matrons Maude or Mrs. Roper at any point in my life, I would have laughed hysterically. But alas several years after having breast cancer, here I am looking for tunics on Amazon that will cover my bulging tamoxifen tummy.

If you aren’t familiar, Tamoxifen is one of the medications they can give you after you survive estrogen based breast cancer. Because losing your breasts wasn’t enough. It can reduce the risk of reoccurrence by 40 to 50%, so it is wise to take it if you don’t want to live the rest of your life looking over your shoulder waiting for that horrible call after your quarterly blood test… It's baaaack!!

When my oncologist first told me I would be on Tamoxifen, he said I would be on it for 5 years. That has since changed to 10 years due to new studies. He proceeded to inform me of the various side effects….blood clots, stroke, heart attack, and weight gain. Huh? What? Did you say weight gain? WEIGHT GAIN?? Arghhh!! So you mean to tell me after all that I went through, now I have to take a pill that will make me fat? Well, at least now I have something to blame rather than taking responsibility for the pizza, wine, and lack of exercise.

At the time I began the medication, I didn’t realize I was gaining weight until I tried on my favorite jeans. What a fiasco. Determined to get them over my hips, I danced, hopped, wiggled, lunged, and did the hand press to the back of the jeans. I somehow managed to get them on, but I was out of breath and exhausted. Not only were they tight and uncomfortable, but they also pushed all the excess fat from my thighs, hips, and tummy up over the waistband of the jeans creating a horrendous muffin top.

When I was growing up, I was always really skinny. I'd laugh and giggle as I recited, "I eat and eat and never get fat" Karma! First thing on the list is some kind of undergarment that cinches, flattens, compresses, and hides. Who needs to breathe anyway? Next, the tunic—a long blouse that poofs out at the bottom so your butt and hips are not in open view. So off to the mall I go. Oh great, the salesperson is in her 20’s and probably a size 0. 0? Really? How is that even a size? She begrudgingly asks me if I need help. Yes I need help but isn’t there someone older, fatter, more matronly back there that understands my plight?

After picking out a few items, she asks if I would prefer a large or extra large. She did not just say that? I don't know whether to cry or push her off her 6-inch heels she can barely walk in. In addition to the shaper garment, I decided to try on a flowy skirt that would surely camouflage my troubled area. I finally emerge from the 1000-degree dressing room with sweat pouring down my back and out of control hair that resembles my prom picture. You try putting on compression underwear without breaking a sweat.

The skirt appears to be longer on one side than the other. I point this out to our little helper and she says what any right-minded salesperson that cares about their customers and making money would say—"maybe you have one leg shorter than the other." Did I somehow forget that I was born with one leg shorter than the other? It couldn’t possibly be that the skirt was imperfect? Nope, must be my bum leg. What’s next on the list, orthopedic shoes? Where does one even find orthopedic shoes anymore? I’m guessing Jimmy Choo shoes are out?

Needless to say, this little outing did nothing for my self-esteem. As a matter of fact, it destroyed any I had left. At this point, I am more self-conscious of the weight gain than I am of the mastectomy scars. The shame, insecurity, and lack of confidence have immobilized me at times. One would think that after going through cancer and surviving that I’d be grateful just to be alive and not care what I look like or what other people think and somehow I do.

Like so many other people, I am putting my life on hold until I lose the weight, until I have more energy, until I have more confidence, until I am pain-free, until the fear of embarrassment goes away. Living a life based on what the future holds, and unable to live life in the here and now. There’s so much life to be lived now and it’s a shame to put it on hold until everything in our lives is perfect because that day may never come.

What if instead of focusing on how our bodies seemingly failed us, we partner with it and celebrate all that it has done and continues to do.

For me, this body that I am so hard on is the one that gave me identical twin sons that went full term and had naturally. This body carried me through a double mastectomy and a hysterectomy all within a month of each other. This is the body that gets to walk on the beach and hear the ocean crash and watch dolphins play near the shore. This body gets to hike in the mountains and witness trees dancing in the wind. This body took apart my mother’s shower, without any help, so she wouldn’t slip and fall and crack her head open. This body lugs in heavy groceries and bulk items from Costco so the family can have what they need and feel nurtured despite the fact that Costco makes me insane. This body gets to hug, laugh, love, and live a beautiful life. The packaging may have changed, but the heart is still the same.

I’ve found a way to live my life in the present by being grateful for what I have.

Grateful for the life I have been given. Grateful for the second chance. Grateful for my eyes that see smiles and joy on my sons' faces. Grateful for the ability to hear them laugh and tell me they love me. Grateful for the music that elevates my mood and my body. Grateful to be able to smell my fur babies’ ears and nuzzle in their soft fur. Grateful for experiencing joy and love I give and receive and feel in my soul.

The practice of gratitude has helped me realize there are so many gifts in my life that deserve attention and celebration. I am even grateful for the Tamoxifen because I want to live and be here for my family and for that, this medicine is yet another gift. Could the practice of gratitude be a path for you also? Take a few minutes every day this week to consider the gifts in YOUR life. You may find, like I did, that gratitude and celebration of what you have will make what you don’t have, much less important.

About the writer

Lynn Finley is a writer and life coach who helps her clients bring a sense of well-being, balance, and ownership to work/life challenges and transitions. Lynn has over 25 years of corporate experience, including as a Senior VP at Disney, where she led a 100-person team and is a Certified Professional Coach. Lynn is a contributing author to the personal transformation book series Pebbles in the Pond-Wave Three and the Grown and Flown website. Learn more