What I’m actually talking about is showing up for myself.
What I’m also talking about is sitting with and accepting, nay, embracing, the idea that I am not as likable as I used to be. And also that it’s not that I like people less, it’s that I’m finally able to sit with the idea that people? Not a huge fan, generally. I’ve also never admitted that before recently. Not because people are by and large bad, but because for…we’ll say 40? 42? of those 45 years, I was absolutely, unequivocally, surrounding myself with the wrong people.
It feels nice to say that out loud and take ownership of that. I’ve been investing my energy into being liked, and sometimes loved, by people who will never in their lives treat me with even a shred of respect or humanity, no matter what I do. So I stopped trying. That happened about two years ago and I’ve been on this crazy path of fully owning my worth ever since.
Has my job hardened me? Maybe. I’m not so sure. If anything, it’s woken up a side of me that’s been sleeping for too long.
If I could pinpoint the actual reason, it was 20 years of medical gaslighting that has resulted in now five entire years of an onslaught of unending medical trauma, and how that unleashed a tsunami of complex trauma in other areas of my life that I didn’t know existed previously, but you know, I could be wrong!
I could be wrong.
For a long time addressing this stuff felt like going to said tsunami armed with a paper towel, and not even one of those normal-sized ones. One of those ones that you rip off and it ends up being like a tiny sliver of a paper towel. I’m finally making headway, and this is my sign that I’m around the right people.
I’m constantly bringing up to my clients that adage of, “Before you diagnose yourself with depression or anxiety, first make sure you’re not surrounded by assholes.” I was so deeply entrenched in making it work with the people around me that I didn’t apply this to myself. I had legitimately emotionally violent people in my life who actively benefited from me putting up with their abusive behavior, and I almost refused to look at it, because that was more painful than just keeping what I thought was the peace. My peace didn’t matter in any of these relationships.
So, surrounding myself with the right people: Ongoing. Still have to break Very Old Lessons and Habits that tell me that I don’t get to choose 100% of the people who come into my space, mentally or physically. I sure do. Everyone does. I don’t have to put up with anyone’s bullshit, no matter how close we were previously. (And 99% of the time, we weren’t that close in all actuality, which showed itself THE LITERAL SECOND I got healthier and started to have boundaries.)
Not allowing abusive behavior, PERIODT: Ongoing. To show how far I’ve come in that department (though I still have a long way to go, again, old habits and lessons and shit), one of my very first staff members called me a fucking asshole in a meeting AND I PUT UP WITH IT at the time. Did that person leave a few months later? Yes. Did I ever speak to them or their spouse, who was one of, if not my absolute best friend because I couldn’t allow that kind of venom anywhere near me ever again?
I realize the way I asked that question was weird. I haven’t spoken to either of them since.
Do I now call people out for, for example, “well actually”ing me because their only reason for doing that is to try to embarrass me publicly and fuck that noise? YUP. Do I call people out for getting defensive when I discuss my experience of something and they’re uncomfortable with it? Sometimes, but even if I don’t, I know what’s happening and I’m able to acknowledge that people’s discomfort with my experiences of them is not actually a “me” problem.
Do I allow people to foist their insecurities masked as judgment on to me? NEVAH.
For so long, I’ve shrunk myself for the express purpose of making other people comfortable AND trying to control what they thought of me.
So where do I go next in this campaign to choose violence?
MY MEDICAL TEAM.
Two things are currently in process:
1. My gastroenterologist, now that it’s Officially Official that I have Barrett’s, is trying to put me on Pepcid. Barrett’s is a pre-cancerous condition of the esophagus, caused by GERD. I’ve gotten the GERD under control this year - so much so that my guts were “flawless”, save for some tiny spots of inflammation in my esophagus and ONE polyp in my sigmoid colon. (There was also some scar tissue on that spot because a polyp has appeared in now five colonoscopies in that exact spot, but the previous four years, it was precancerous. This year, just benign. For reference, my first colonoscopy yielded 13. Also I way overhydrated this year, but I learned a very important lesson about chugging the prep solution and how totally important that is.)
Anyway, I said no. My doctor did this kind of head tilt at me and was like “I’m going to call in a prescription for it. Just take it once a day.”
Again, I said no. Pepcid has carcinogens, I’m very much entering into my “Let’s be very vigilant about what I put in my body so that I can minimize my cancer risk as much as possible” Era, and I’m not interested in trading one cancer for another, which is a lot like what this is sounding like. Was there anything else I could take that wouldn’t be as harmful?
No. Also I know how painful esophageal cancer is, right? And that any cancer that might be caused by Pepcid is certainly going to be easier to deal with and also esophageal cancer, unless caught SUPER early is a death sentence and I know that, right?
Pulling out the big guns early, but she had several good points and pointed me toward more literature about Pepcid and cancer risk and quality of life and things.
The point that I made to her was this:
I trust you, I do - and after twenty years of medical gaslighting that ended in me having my skull cracked open and a lifetime of cognitive difficulties that I’m now looking at, I trust myself more. Come at me with literature, come at me with scare tactics, whatever works for you - but this will be a dialogue, no matter what. I have a say, and I will make an educated decision - based on facts both in the literature AND in how my body works. Both are equally valid and no matter how you approach me, the validity of that will never change.
She high-fived me on my way out of the appointment. “Keep doing what you’re doing.” I have a flood of literature in my medical record to read and I intend to bring it to March Madness 2026 when I talk to my Lynch Doctor again.
Damn right.
Speaking of which…
2. There’s a vaccine. It’s in phase three clinical trials as of two years ago. It’s big.
Colonoscopies every 3-5 years instead of annually. People who don’t want to get rid of their reproductive organs won’t have to, and no more trading that for uterine biopsies twice a year if someone decides to keep them. No more doctors mentioning preventative double mastectomy in passing as if that’s nothing, which has happened to me three times in the past year.
Normal risk of all cancers. Regular prevention instead of hypervigilance. A life-changing development for people who have Lynch Syndrome of all stripes.
An option not available to me until I have five years NED (No Evidence of Disease - fun fact I learned at 2025 March Madness: Remission from thyroid cancer isn’t actually a thing because in one of the types of cancer I have, risk of recurrence actually goes UP at the ten year mark) under my belt, both for thyroid cancer and the brain tumor. That’s in exactly 12 months for thyroid cancer, and 14 for the brain tumor.
I decided I’m going to go armed with literature, consistently clear brain scans and thyroid ultrasounds, and not accept no for an answer in March Madness 2026. I’m leaving with that fucking vaccine or I’ll stage a sit-in in my doctor’s office. Both are viable options at this point. Next-level nerding is actively in process.
So, yeah.
Choose violence when it’s called for. Future you will thank you for the peace.
