26 stay) in my own clothes than switch to the hospital gown and feel like a patient. Only later did I realize how much of the hospital stayed with me when I left the building. Each scan appointment loaded up my clothes with patient vibes. After a year or so, I could barely bring myself to put on this sports bra. It was so full of memories of my life as a cancer patient that it made me feel sick. And although it stayed invisible to most people, to me it turned into a visible reminder of a state of mind and body and soul that I was desperately trying to leave. Looking at it when taking it out of my dresser, looking at it in the mirror after putting it on… it slowly and reliably turned me into an earlier version of myself. When I was wearing the sports bra, it was as if its cancer patient vibes slowly bled out and seeped into me. Nobody could see it. Only I could feel it. And then one day, I furiously ripped the bra off, stuffed it into the farthest corner of my dresser and started yelling desperately, ‘This piece of clothing is contaminated. Never ever can I wear it again. I need something different. Untainted. A piece of my new life to be!’ Even though nobody but me will be able to see what it looks like, this isn’t only about comfort anymore or about trust in supporting all parts of me. This isn’t even about romantic dates. No, sadly, my body is not there yet. It is about an untarnished piece of clothing. Neutral at a minimum. Ideally, with a twist of new life. A sneak preview, a teaser, a refreshing taste of the yet to come.
Issuu converts static files into: digital portfolios, online yearbooks, online catalogs, digital photo albums and more. Sign up and create your flipbook.