Little Things

A while ago, a friend of mine sent me a knitted false breast pattern for women who have had mastectomies. She asked me if I could redesign it in crochet. I did, and it has been well-received. I have gotten numerous comments on it from people who have donated scores of them to cancer centers and oncologists’ offices around the world.

Here is a picture of the one I made:

And yes, I pierced the nipple. I was being silly. Not quite sure now why I made it in teal, though.

Yesterday, I got this comment:

You have saved my sanity! I cannot thank you enough for this pattern. I had a mastectomy 4 years ago after a botched lumpectomy. At the time, prostheses were available free of charge (in Australia), but when I elected to have a prophylactic mastectomy 2 years later, they were no longer free & would have cost $800AUD. Of course, I couldn’t afford this, so have been wearing a liftup bra with a removeable bag which is SO uncomfortable & HOTTTTT. Now, I can wear all my pretty bras again. Again, thanks for giving me my life back. Warmest regards, [Name redacted]

My heart is so full right now. A simple, little thing that took all of an hour to re-work and crochet has given this woman and others like her a second chance to reclaim a piece of their femininity.

I am in awe of all survivors out there.

The Gift of Misery

Ok. This is a song that I wrote the other day. It's depressing, but it's reflective of my headspace when I wrote it.

"The Gift of Misery"

The tears I shed
Have never dried.
The voice in my head
Never lied.
He told me I was a monster,
So I believed it.

He scraped away
Bits of my soul.
Day after day,
I would never be whole.
He told me I was imperfect,
So I achieved it.

For two dozen years,
I crashed and I burned.
I gave nothing
And got it in turn.

The truth in the lie,
The fire in the ice,
The pain in the heart,
It doesn't think twice.

The fear in the dawn,
The hope in the night,
The gift in the misery,
Better end it right.

What is Beauty?

What is beautiful?

An argument could be made that beauty in a person is a combination of physical attributes, assembled in a pleasing manner. A tiny waistline, large brown eyes, full lips.

It could also be said that beauty stems from personality traits. Self-confidence, a sense of humor, compassion.

It could also be that beauty is a combination of those things. A sweet smile, a loving heart.

A friend of mine expressed some concern about finding a woman to be striking, and yet not being physically attracted to her at all.

I pointed out that, in my experience, a “beautiful” face, when attached to an ugly personality, becomes ugly in my eyes.

Likewise, homely features can become more attractive when they are found gracing a kind soul.

So being beautiful is not, I think, a mere matter of being graced with distinctive features or the money for a good cosmetic surgeon. It’s about allowing the good attributes of one’s personality shine through unprepossessing features.

Being beautiful surely has something to do with a nice back side or a pixie nose, but it’s more to do with the light in your eyes or the words from your mouth.

And everyone is beautiful to someone, even if that someone is only yourself.

Be beautiful.