My inner sex kitten... is about to make her public debut

This blog started because I was diagnosed with a disease that I honestly thought would kill me. And over the past two years, I have whined and cried and laughed and pondered over all of the minute details of my life. I have mourned the loss of my breasts, cried over my shrinking femininity, shrieked and wailed that I'd never find a man again or fall in love... or *gasp*  get married. I have been sick because of treatment. I have been sick despite treatment. I have taken more pills than I can count... and you know what? I'm still here.

All of that left me changed physically and mentally... left me emotionally drained and in need of constant reassurance that I was "okay"... whether I was cancer free or struggling with the aftermath of breast cancer. There's no doubt about it; Nicole is a very different gal than she used to be.

But I'm also very much the same. Well, not the same... better. More sure of a lot of things -- even while I'm unsure about some of the biggest things in my life. One thing that I am really starting to get (and pardon me for getting this so slowly) is that I am one sexy mugg! (laughs)  I don't mean that in a "see, I told you she thinks she's cute" sort of way. But in a "I know who I am, I know what I am and I'm cool with all of it" kind of way.

The past few days, I have been shown and reminded that every woman has an inner sex kitten that is clamoring to come out and say hello to the world. And that includes myself as well as my pink ribbon sisters in their various stages of healing. When I was bald from the chemo people kept telling me that they thought I was beautiful. I thought they were crazy. Then I agreed with them... and then I thought they were lying again. (laughs) And today... I think they were being kind (maybe too kind) but they were also right. I was beautiful. And I still am.

I'm saying all of this because I want my outward appearance to match the way that I feel inside about myself. Women often let themselves go because they stop having time (or making time) to focus on themselves. Maybe they gain weight after having kids or getting married. They may work too many hours to really focus on eating correctly or working out. You know all of the excuses. But MY biggest excuse was that I had just gone through breast cancer. My body wasn't the same. The period after I lost my breast was devastating. I wondered repeatedly how I would ever feel sexy again. Some days I did, most days I didn't. When I had my reconstruction done, I felt better. But then I realized that I was still going through those roller coaster emotional highs and lows -- one day I felt strong and feminine and sexy and then I felt damaged and broken and ugly. And it went on and on this way for many months.

Exhausting.

The same way that you look at some women and you marvel at how they exude a grace and charm and beauty that defies their age or their size or whether they fit the world's standards of beauty; I have started to marvel at myself. The real revelation came when I met a pink ribbon sister a few weeks ago while I was hanging out at one of my favorite lounges listening to old school hip hop. This sister was beautiful. She was kind and funny and fun... and a survivor like me. And as I chatted with her and looked at her, I realized that despite all that she had been through and was dealing with... her beauty shined like a light. It dawned on me a few days later that breast cancer didn't destroy her beauty and that's when it hit me that it had not destroyed mine either.

*Lightbulb* 

So, if you see me out and about and you notice that I'm dressing a little differently, walking a little differently... I'm switching gears (again). Coming at this life with a new enthusiasm...