Now, of course there was no way that it was likely to happen. I told him that I was sensitive about that scar but I have to admit, the line itself was just plain funny.
Who says something like that?
You know who does? A man who has no idea what your history is and in the moment that he utters it doesn't care. He's just trying to make a connection. For the first time in many months, it didn't occur to me to correct him or inform him of all my medical issues. I just left the comment where it was. And I laughed.
Some of the joy I experienced this past weekend was being comfortable enough to hang out with little concern about the details of my breast cancer. I did not mope around wondering whether people could tell I had on a prosthesis, what they may have thought about my radiation tan or anything else. I simply did not care. It wasn't my highest priority this weekend.
That means that I'm growing. I'm returning to myself. Life is gaining some normal perspective. Its a beautiful thing. I am blessed. Its not so bad being the "sexy formerly-bald chemo girl" these days.
So... tell me, are scars sexy now? If so, I might need to flip my game around a bit. Who knew that my port scar might become a conversation starter one day? I didn't see that one coming.
...and that's a good thing.