EMMA'S DIARY
DIFFERENT BUT GOOD DIFFERENT
I faced some uncomfortable truths this week. As one friend sat having chemotherapy, one sat talking on a podcast about her double mastectomy and a best friend was attending the funeral of her best friend, a girl only in her early forties. I am reminded that cancer is real and that it ability to effects so many people’s lives remains as it always has done and whilst treatment has changed for the better the scars it leaves on each of these women will last a lifetime. Even more I will recognise the individuality of us all as human beings. I am being forced to look at myself as a person, not because I am in fear of getting ill but looking at myself and my response to each of these situations which is completely telling of the person I actually am and I have suspected for some time. Weird.
I have never really feel a sense of belonging with people and groups (and the funny thing is no one would even know) and whilst I have a much better ability to connect with people these days there is no denying that I am different, but in the past I have felt ‘bad different’ whereas now I am beginning to feel ‘good different’ and have even started to laugh at my peculiarities as I slowly turn into my mother who doesn’t really like to have too many people frequenting her life either. I have a solid set of six best friends that ‘get me’ and that’s kind of all I need. Everyone else is a bonus or a curse in some cases and I am always mindful of their changeability but no longer care as much as I did.
The lady who died has fought a three year battle and I inadvertently became involved in her life through my friend. I never really spoke to her much but have been the unwilling, yet unable to say so, participant in many hen doos, parties and the worst bit of all, the dreaded twenty five strong Whatsapp group of scouse women , who incidentally would give any man a run from their money! I have wanted to leave the WhatsApp group so many times as I literally play no role, what … so … ever. But I am fearful. Two people know me but everyone else just see this random occasionally commenting (in an attempt to be involved) but actually no one’s really interested. That should be enough to leave the group yet here I am. I feel like some little weirdo as I watch their lives unfold over the group and even though
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