Today you got the news that you are getting a colostomy bag. It wasn’t a surprise, we had an idea it was coming, but that doesn’t make it any less scary. I’m sure it feels like Crohn’s won and you lost. But that is far from true!

You have battled this disease for so long. From losing so much weight to not being able to eat anything you really love, you have championed. There may have been days that you would sulk in your worries and sorrows, but that is exactly to be expected when you have a chronic disease. Most other times, though, you were laughing and making the best of a complicated situation.

I know you are worried about how your life is going to change, whether it be forever or temporary. That worry is in all of us who support you. We want what is best for you and your health. Your life is going to change; you are going to be able to get up and do things that you couldn’t before!

Walking around the mall isn’t going to cause 3 days of lying in bed and wishing for a new body because this one hurts so much. Going to the restroom isn’t going to be the dreaded painful task it once was. You’ll see, it will be better and worth it.

But today, you are allowed to be scared. You can scream, cry, worry, whatever you need to do. Because in the end, life is going to be different and you are facing a surgery no one starts out wanting. Always remember that you have a support system behind you: a family who loves you and a best friend who can listen to you whine and not get tired of it.

You will get through this and I will always be here to remind you when you think that you can’t. Crohn’s has not won. You have not lost. This is only the beginning to a healing journey, and I can’t wait to see you flourish like the wonderful woman you are!

I’ve never been able to pinpoint the time in my life that you overtook my mind like the parasite you are. Maybe it was from birth, maybe it was when my parents divorced, maybe…

All I know is you have been in the back of my mind for as long as I can possibly remember. You made me the self-conscious little girl in school who needed the approval of all of her peers. To be loved by every teacher. To be, in essence, a Stepford child. No child can be perfect, and you knew that when you infected me with your poisonous thoughts of inadequacy. 

Every decision I have made since I have been able to make my own decisions, I have had you there guiding me. Telling me, “Oh, not that. You’re not good enough for that…” “You’ll never be good enough to love…”

You turned me into an addict for love. A junkie for approval. The real life image of “Who Not to Be”. You have made me question every choice I have made in life. And with every choice you brought me to, it was never the right one. It was never going to be how or what I intended, due to your shadow placed across my heart and soul.

Let me not be so quick to blame everything on you, though. For a while I embraced you in the warmest of ways. When I was alone, I had you to talk to. You were there when some friends weren’t. But, naturally, I could not see you were what drove them away. I imagine having a constantly needy for approval friend can be a burden in itself. 

Sure, your job is just that, to soil my thoughts with sadness and feeling like I lost a puppy every time I said something wrong or didn’t know an answer. My duty is to combat you with all I have, if not for me- but for my family. You turned me into some sort of Gladiator of my own mind. Conflicting thoughts and hopes and dreams with the “reality” that I will never, ever, be good enough. 

Even in the decision to get help and seek medical assistance, you managed to wriggle in and jab at my fears. “Oh, if you go for help, they’ll lock you away. You’ll be grouped with the nut-jobs and be forever away from your family.” Let me tell you something. 

For as much as you have ever been in my mind- you have never once been in full control. You have never managed to make me have thoughts of wishing I were dead or that I would harm anyone else. As strong as you are, you are not near as strong as I am. Every day I remind myself, “I am worthy.” “I am good enough.” 

Because I am. 

I am capable of so much, and have yet to reach my full potential. Despite your accusations of inadequacy and never ending bouts of self-doubt, I have managed to produce a healthy marriage and a perfect daughter. She will never wonder if she is worth anything- because she will always know love. You may have control for now, but I will never stop fighting. I will never fully give into you. Because I am, just as you made me, the Gladiator of my own mind. I will prevail. Game on.

There’s always the one friend that you never thought you would lose. That through everything, you would come out on top of bullshit and be better friends than ever before.

Then, suddenly, you’ve lost them.

With a blink of an eye, all those memories are there, but you can only remind yourself of them because the other person isn’t there to discuss it anymore. It’s like somewhere in the past, someone read a beautiful story of two people who were best of friends to you, and the memories aren’t even a reality anymore- only a beautiful dream.

You reminisce.

Days of talking for hours, planning weddings, planning baby showers, and helping each other make it through life; all only a flicker of a moment in time.

You wonder.

You wonder where you went wrong, how you could have been a better person and friend, and evaluate every aspect of yourself as a friend and a person in general (or maybe that’s just me…).

You deny it’s happening.

But after months of trying to get it back on track, reaching out and trying to be a better friend and person, you realize that you weren’t the problem. You did what you could. You called. You texted. You sent multiple messages through every social media you are linked to. But they just did not reciprocate or show that they care enough to try as well.

Then you give up.

It’s not easy to give up after trying as hard as you can to fix something. Especially a friendship that you thought would last through thick and thin.  You cry, you blame yourself, you blame them, you blame the world.

Then you accept it.

You learn those broken pieces of your friendship can’t be mended, but they can make something much more beautiful: a lesson. To look at yourself and remember that you are more than worry, more than despair and desperation. You were strong enough to leave something you wanted to keep. You picked yourself up and dusted yourself off, and you became a better person for having experienced it. You survived the friendship breakup- and learned how to be a better friend for it.

Everyone knows that I’m not perfect
 But Heaven knows I try
 My face tells you I’m smiling,
 When I really want to cry.
 When every day is a battle,
 You learn to play charades
 To play someone you’re really not-
 The sad you never fades.

Sometimes she’s not with me,
 The lonely girl inside.
 Sometimes I’m just myself,
 and I don’t have to hide.
 Sometimes I’m not so empty,
 And I don’t feel so apprehensive
 I can smile and just be myself,
 Without being so damn defensive.

Yet it follows me like my shadow,
 Even when I smile and laugh,
 Because words are never just words,
 And the past isn’t just the past.
 It tells me I’m not good enough,
 I’ll never be more than scarred.
 Even if I try my best,
 Life will always be this hard.

It’s hard to fight an unseen foe
 That makes my mind start reeling,
 When no one knows the hardships
 Of not knowing what I’m feeling.
 I’m always trying to determine
 If what I feel is fact or fiction;
 Always second guessing myself,
 Always contending with confliction.

I’ll lick my wounds and smile again,

 I can’t ever let it show.

 This pain I feel is all too real,

 But no one will ever know.

“It’s going to be okay and you are going to come out of this like a champion. You’re beautiful and strong, just hold on.”

Those were the words I needed to hear whenever I was a teenager living on my own and trying to survive, love, and be loved. I didn’t often hear anything like that, though.

I worked three jobs, barely made rent, and lived on Ramen Noodles and leftover food from working in Fast Food. I barely had time to sleep, much less talk to anyone.

So, as I grew older, I caught myself advising people younger than me. Nothing official, and nothing consistent per se, but definitely sharing my life experiences and telling them to “hold on just a little longer, it’s going to be okay.” Because it will be okay.  Everyone needs someone to lean on sometimes and that is completely normal. We can’t always be strong and independent. As humans, we need to make mistakes and have someone to tell us how to get back on our feet.

Be the person you needed when you were younger.

Ask someone if they need a hand making it through the day.  See the situation and ask yourself, “can I make this easier for the person enduring it?”

Because we all need to be picked up and carried sometimes.

I love my daughter more than anything in this world… except my husband.

During our premarital counseling, our counselor discussed how vital it is to love our spouse more than anything and anyone else. More than money, more than our parents, and more than our children.

I didn't fully understand it until we had our daughter- but I get it now.

My husband is the best person I know. He provides us with anything and everything we may need or want within reason. He calms all my fears and doubts and keeps all my secrets. He tells me I am beautiful daily and reminds me of my worth constantly.

Don’t get me wrong, here. I’m not saying I don’t love my daughter more than life itself. But without my husband, I wouldn’t have her. I wouldn’t have the life I live, the strength to be the person I am today, or the many memories we share that I wouldn’t trade for anything on this earth.

Without my husband, my child wouldn’t have the example of what a great marriage should look like. She should aspire to have a healthy relationship with her significant other, and I love that we can provide that model.

I make no effort to love my daughter, it’s so easy to. She is my child; my flesh and blood, and my heart beats for her. She is the apple of my eye and each day with her brings new joys and challenges.

But I work daily to maintain my love with my husband. I make sure to tell him I love him. I make sure to show I appreciate him. He can be annoying, he can be lazy at times, and even though my heart doesn’t beat for him the way it does for my child- it skips a beat for him every day. We work hard to provide the best life for our family, and without him, it just wouldn’t be the same.

So yes, I love my husband more than my child. But I love him more than my child, for my child.

I am not perfect by any means, and I am not afraid to make people aware of that fact.

As a person who suffers from severe “Fear of Rejection” and having depression and anxiety, I tend to over apologize for miniscule things.

Here is what you should know about someone like me.

• I am always sincere with my apology.

I may apologize profusely, but it is never in insincerity. If I feel I have wronged someone, done a job incorrect, or just feel the need to say sorry- it’s because I truly am sorry.  I want people to know that I have understood the actions I have taken and want to show them I tend to correct it.

• If I don’t apologize, I’m afraid I will be alone.

Along with the over apologetic nature I have, the fear of rejection accompanies it more often than not. I want everyone around me to be happy with me all the time, and if I can make it so, I will. It terrifies me to no end to think that I did not say sorry (even if I shouldn’t) and end up completely alone.

• Sorry doesn’t mean I’m wrong.

I will apologize for damn near anything. Someone ate your food without permission? I’m sorry.

Your dog of 15 years passed away? I’m sorry.

You felt that my opinion about certain things is too different from yours? I’m sorry.

I am not wrong, sometimes. But I will make the sincere apology for it, because there is nothing worse than losing someone you love or care about over a tiny argument.

• I will go to extreme lengths for you to know I am sorry.

I have been known to write notes apologizing for causing any offense or damage. Sometimes a verbal apology just doesn’t cut it and I need to elaborate. I will write it down for you and express all of my feelings about a situation and apologize. I do this because I cherish the people in my life, even ones that don’t cherish me the same.

• I’m not sorry I’m apologetic.

The best way for me keep myself from going insane with worry that I have offended someone or done something incorrectly, is to profusely apologize. The only time I am not sorry, is when I say I am sorry. My apologies are always from the heart and I will always do so for anyone I come across. It comforts me to know that I was big enough to put my pride aside, and do all I can for someone- than to not say those two small words and have nothing to show for it other than someone with hurt feelings and possibly a lost friendship.

It takes a lot of understanding to be around someone like me, who constantly craves approval or constantly apologizes for her own misgivings. But it is a trait I have grown to love and find admirable. I’m no push over, but I will accept when apologies are necessary (or over analyze and make unnecessary apologies) and make the best out of something bad.

Every day I wondered if we would return to the way things used to be.

I remember years of cookouts and smiles, talking about life and our dreams for our little growing families. Sitting on the front porch for hours and just enjoying each other’s company.

I can’t mend the friendship we once had. I never will be able to remind you how beautiful you were or how you were doing all you could for your family.

You left so suddenly. I didn’t know I was going to find out you were gone before we could fix anything. Before I could let you know how bright your inner light was, even if it had dimmed a little.

As I prepare to visit you, one last time before you are forever gone, I am filled with too many emotions.

Regret: I should have contacted you more. I should have been available to you when you needed me most. I regret losing my way from you and allowing us to fall apart.

Sadness: For the time lost in between years. For the future of your children, who will never be able to know just how much good was in your heart.

Confusion: How could such a bright, young, and vibrant woman be gone forever? How could I not know that the last words we spoke to each other, would actually be our last words to each other?

There was never any argument or final words to each other. We grew apart and went our own ways. I am not sure how closure works for me, as there was nothing wrong with how it all ended for us.

But when I heard you were gone, really gone, my heart sank and I feel so lost. I always had the option to change the status of our contact. I could have reached out and said I’m sorry for losing our friendship.

But now I can’t, and that hurts so much. I can’t call you up and pretend like it never happened and find my way back to you.

All I can do is remember our times and happy memories and know that they were the best of times. I can be there for those children and tell them how much you loved them. I can’t fix us, but I can fix me. I can do better in your memory, and hope that you are looking down and seeing just how much you meant to me.

Please remember, wherever you are now, that we are sisters. We are best friends. And I will not fail anymore to be the friend you so needed, even if you aren’t here for me to prove it.

A sister is typically defined by a sibling who has a blood relation to you through one or both parents. Typically you know your sister from birth, or her birth, whichever comes first.

Not my sister.

My sister came in the form of an eleven year old girl who had two brothers and desperately needed some girl time. She is my sister-in-law by traditional means. But she is my true sister in every other way.

She has helped me become the best version of myself by looking up to me when I was not ready to be looked up to. She asked me questions about my past that I wasn’t quite ready to answer, but I did, because I wanted her to make the right choices.

My sister never felt an obligation to love me, as she wasn’t raised with me. But yet, she chose to love me. She picked me to be her role model, even though I was nowhere in a place to be one. But that’s what little sisters do, right? Choose terrible times to do things to the older sister?

She fought for me, when I didn’t even know there was a fight going on. She defended my character, even though I was unaware it was called into question.

She stood with me at the altar when I married her brother and was beside me when I was delivering my first child.

I stood with her at her at her prom, proud as could be. I was beside her teaching her high school math, even though I suck at math.

We have grown into adults together, and with every year, our relationship grows closer.

No, we don’t always have it good. We have fought plenty, blocked each other on social media, and sworn each other’s name away. But we always find our way back.

We have turned our friendship into a sisterhood that not even the worst of words can ever break.

No, we don’t share DNA. But we have shared tears, moments, and memories that can never be replaced by blood.