Change is Permanent

This month, I am celebrating two years in remission. When I was diagnosed five years ago, the thought of being in remission didn’t even cross my mind. I never thought I would even get there. My long-term goals took a backseat and my short-term goal became getting better day by day.

A few weeks ago, I attended a mindfulness workshop on navigating life challenges and big transitions. It came at a perfect time because I have been ready to enter that next phase of life. During the workshop, I couldn’t help but think about what it would have meant to me a few years ago. I’ve never been good at accepting change or being open to it. As humans, we are built to push back on change – we enjoy our routine, planning, and knowing what comes next. In this workshop, I learned that change is permanent.

If there is one lesson I’ve learned in my twenties, it’s to understand that we can’t control everything that happens in our lives and it’s not even worth putting in the time and energy to try to control. When I was nineteen, I didn’t have much that ailed me or caused me stress. But when I got sick, suddenly everything was out of my control and it took me a long time to accept that. Even now at the age of twenty-six, new things are always coming up. It’s like a constant game of dodgeball. But that’s life – no one said it would be easy.

I also learned that the life change process starts with separation, then moves to the transition phase, and eventually integration. These stages are non-linear, just like the stages of grief would be. But the main question we have to ask of ourselves when separating from something is “What can I take with me?” Having recently separated myself from a community and people that I valued, I can confidently say that I am getting closer to the integration phase. I’ve taken with me the people I do care about and the lessons learned while also integrating myself elsewhere. While this transition was initially sad for me, I’ve come to peace with the idea that I was meant for something greater and it’s time to move on.

As I come up on this two year anniversary of remission, I find myself stopping during my daily transitions and feeling grateful for my health. I was in the middle of my workout last week and thought to myself “Wow, a few years ago I wouldn’t have been able to do this.” This thought crosses my mind in the middle of my workday, when I’m out to dinner with my family, having drinks with friends, and when I’m going for a walk. I finally have the opportunity to build the life I always dreamt of having and you better believe I’m not going to let that opportunity pass me by.

My disease really doesn’t hold that much weight in my life anymore and it doesn’t have to. It’s no longer at the forefront of my mind. I’ve replaced it with things like buying a house, building a life, and exceling in my career. I used to have so much anxiety about sharing my disease with people and being a burden on others, but now I’ve accepted who I am and all the other things I bring to the table. I’ve never been happier or felt stronger, and I feel so at peace with that. Let’s hope and pray that remission stays around for a long time.

Change is permanent. What are you going to take with you?