Was it me failing my resolutions? Or were my resolutions failing me?
I used to be the most resolute resolution-maker. Even as a child, I was always goal-oriented and loved the feeling of accomplishing things, and every January 1st, I would dutifully sit down and write out my resolutions for the upcoming year. And what resolutions they were! I always picked big goals, like: In the new year, I will lose 50 pounds! And run a marathon! And have a picture-perfect home! And study scripture every day! Oh, and be the best parent ever who never yelled at my children!
The problem? I never accomplished those resolutions. I’d start out strong, but by February or March, I’d be out of willpower and I’d slide quietly back into my old habits. Every winter, I’d feel guilty and ashamed, looking back at all of the amazing things…I didn’t do.
Then I got cancer…twice…at the same time
Two years ago, I started experiencing severe stomach pain. The doctors weren’t sure what was causing it, and they finally scheduled a surgery to go in and figure it out. But before I could have the surgery, I found a lump and was diagnosed with breast cancer. I started treatment for the breast cancer only to discover that the stomach pain was from appendix cancer. That’s right: two different cancers, with two different treatment plans, at the same time, in the same body. It was a lot to deal with, and I won’t lie – the next year was incredibly difficult.
Everything felt different
One good thing I can say about cancer is that it completely changed my perspective on my life – especially about what I consider “success” and “failure.” Before, I always felt like I was failing somewhere, but now simply being alive and with my family felt like a huge success. That was when I decided I was done with New Year’s resolutions.