My Breast Cancer Diagnosis Helped Me Find Forgiveness

My ex-husband was remarkably on the receiving end

I did not tell anyone that I thought I might have cancer before our family left for vacation. In an attempt to get my young daughters away from the hectic rhythm of our post-divorce life that included my grad school studies, bartending, and working two jobs, I planned a trip to Disney.

Converting my family of four to a family of three had proven much more challenging than I anticipated. In a desperate attempt to re-create the family I had willingly given up when I divorced Matt, I planned an expensive vacation that I put entirely on credit cards with the hope that I could reconnect with my daughters.

My annual mammogram fell a month before our trip, six months before my fortieth birthday. My best friend, Lesley, died of breast cancer a few years prior at 33. Before she died, she made me promise never to miss my annual mammogram. Instinctively, on the day of my mammogram, I knew that putting my family back together was not the only thing I would have to worry about.

“Don’t get dressed yet. We need a closer look,” the technician said through the paper-thin curtain. Of course, you do. I looked in the mirror at my left breast and placed my hand to the side gently pausing at the spot that two months…