I hate pink ribbons!!

{And before you go off on me about that loud statement, let me tell you why.}

I look at pink ribbons stickers on cars.  On license plates.

I see pink ribbon quilts that took hours days for someone to lovingly make.

There are pink ribbon events popping up all over in our area.

I see pink ribbon tattoo ideas on Pinterest.

All these things to memorialize a survivor who fought the fight with cancer.  Someone who lost their fight, a warrior.

We are quickly approaching the month of October, which, I painstakingly am aware, is Breast Cancer Awareness month.

October has always been my favorite month of the year.  The colors of the leaves, bonfires, football and sweaters.

I didn't used to be so keenly aware that it was the month in which we remember.

But I am now aware.

And I am quickly reminded of a time in my life that my body was exhausted, but my mind wouldn't turn off.
A time when I worried that I was robbing my family of a "normal" life.
A time of chemicals dripping into a port in my chest, a time of adjusting to a new body.
A time of allergic reactions.
A time of staph infections.
A time that I could truly not look into a mirror, because what I saw there horrified me.
{And I am not talking about what us women see everyday,  not your mild insecurities...Im talking about not recognizing myself without hair, eyebrows, or eyelashes but with blood shot eyes, extra weight and fresh scars. }

Back then, I felt alone. But didn't vocalize it, because wasn't I burden enough on my family and friends?

I had two toddlers and had just started my life.

It wasn't fair.

And I gave God the silent treatment because of it.  I know He didn't give me cancer, but I didn't understand why he allowed it.  And I guess I was mad about it, while still trying to remain in His graces, so He would grant me more time with my family.  Maybe I was afraid that what I had to say, would upset Him.

Cancer is not fair.  For anyone.  But breast cancer is humiliating for women.

Seriously.

How can it be worse, that while you are fighting for your life, and feeling like hell, you are also losing those physical attributes that make you feel like a woman, that make you feel pretty or desirable??

I want cancer gone.  I want to wipe out the need for those damn pink ribbons we are going to see all over the newspaper, the tv, t-shirts and fundraisers very soon.  I never want to see them again.

I never want my kids sitting in a tattoo parlor together getting matching pink ribbon tattoos...if you know what I mean.

I want breast cancer cured.

I love PEOPLE.  I love mothers and daughters.  Sisters and friends.

And because of that, I hate those pink ribbons, and the pain they truly represent.

There.  I said it.