Yesterday, after returning home from getting my expander injections, I got a postcard reminder to schedule my annual mammogram. I was confused for a moment, because I hadn’t yet realized that this is just the auto-generated annual reminder IU Health sends out and not official correspondence from my breast cancer doctors, which I have been getting plenty of recently. Then I realized what it was, and I immediately flashed back to a year ago, standing in my kitchen, calling to schedule that annual appointment, on the verge of separating from my husband, getting ready to have breast reduction surgery, having just returned from a week in Costa Rica, without a clue of what was coming my way.

I’m exhausted. This recovery has been so much more difficult than I expected, and I still have such a long road in front of me. But I am healthy and cancer free. I am happy. I am excited and hopeful and grateful and humbled in ways I didn’t even know were possible a year ago. Life keeps consistently sending me the sweetest glimmers and silver linings, even though these days are really fucking hard. And I keep getting reminded of the great unfolding of this adventure—of the way that a year ago I hadn’t even met some of the people who were going to love me into being on this other side of cancer.

What a difference a year makes.

Give someone a kiss. Text someone you’ve been meaning to. Schedule that mammogram. Plan the trip. Take a risk you’ve been delaying. Rest if you feel tired. Celebrate when you feel grateful. Dance when you get frustrated. Give yourself the grace you’ve been refusing to, that same grace you would happily afford a loved one. Draw a boundary you’ve been afraid will change everything, because here’s the thing—it might change everything—so that Love has room to replace what you must let go of in order to live your way to something so much more incredible.

Peace.

Big hugs and big love to you each today.