(Originially written on Saturday, May 4th, 2019). I recently saw a kevonstage video which spoke about running your own race. I watched it earlier today and thought it was timely given the way I’ve been feeling. As a graduate student, I have to constantly resist the urge to compare myself to other people. I’m successful for the most part. As I watched my friends and peers emerge in their regalia, I was proud I could witness their moment of accomplishment. However, yesterday was hard. Last year, I missed a number of my friends and peers graduate because I was in New York. Yesterday was a reminder that more people would be moving on.

Over the last few weeks, I have become more emotional about graduation. My joy for others has been mingled with a questioning of my own progress. Although I had to take more than a year off from my program in order to undergo treatment and recover from my cancer recurrence, a part of me feels as though I’m behind because I was not hooded along with my cohort. I know it is foolish for me to think this way but human emotions can be illogical. Last year, I began my second round of chemotherapy on May 2nd. The day before Mother’s Day, I asked my sister-in-law to shave my hair off because it had started to fall out. I had no intention of traumatizing myself by waiting for my hair to come out in chunks.

Five years ago, I was recovering from surgery after being diagnosed with endometrial cancer. At that time, I focused on entering Michigan State University with an intensity that distracted me from the trauma my body had undergone. I steeled myself so that my emotions would not drown me. Nothing would prevent me from earning the doctorate I had wanted since I was an undergrad. As I went to doctors’ appointments and listened to their prognosis, I understood that cancer was a threat to my life. However, I also viewed it as an obstacle to my educational goals. Like a runner whose focus was on the finish line, I set my sights on moving to Michigan and beginning my program. I am surprised that half a decade has passed since then. One thing I realize is our race almost never resembles a straight trajectory. The path is full of curves, sudden dips in the terrain and steep climbs. Just as I have endured my personal battles in the midst of earning a doctorate, my peers have endured their own struggles. We each have our own path. 

My journey is just as important as my destination. Along the way, I have been able to build endurance and strategies which will be helpful in furture battles. I am working through what it means to extend grace to myself and face things I was unwilling to address in the past. On this leg of my race, I’ve also been privileged to have wonderful individuals walk beside me. I’m in good company. As I complete program milestones, I’d do well to remember that my path is unique to who I am.

Shout out to my sister-in-law for calling me a few hours after I’d written my first draft of this post. She reminded me that even though I had not yet completed my program, I have come a long way since last year. By July 2018, I had become so weak that I needed to use my cane again. One night, my Mom positioned herself behind me, her smaller frame pressed against my back, and walked me to the bathroom. There were other times when she had to feed me. Another night, both my parents walked me to my room and put me to bed.

I’m stronger and continue to press forward. Thank God I didn’t die of cancer. Those things are worth celebrating.