by Ivy Hughes | Aug 7, 2019 | Cancer grief, Cancer ruins relationships, Life after breast cancer, Life after cancer, Raising kids after cancer, Relationships after cancer, Survivorship, Women empowerment
People are kind, life is good. Hold onto this for a second before you flash your middle finger. For various reasons, this past week absolutely leveled numerous friends of mine. One after another is dealing with heavy heartbreak, death, loss, physical injuries,...
by Ivy Hughes | Jul 20, 2019 | Life after breast cancer, Life after cancer, Raising kids, Raising kids after cancer, Raising twins
What would you do if one of your roommates took a deuce in the middle of the floor of the most sacred room in your house—your bedroom? Take it off of their rent? Stop cooking for them? Refuse to do their laundry? For the last few weeks, I have started or concluded...
by Ivy Hughes | Jul 15, 2019 | Dating after cancer, Life after breast cancer, Life after cancer, Relationships after cancer
I am and have been many things, a liar has never been one of them. Unfortunately, the affect that I seem to have on people these days makes me want to learn how to lie. When I spend time with a new person, the beast of a story that I’m working through shotguns any...
by Ivy Hughes | Jul 12, 2019 | Cancer grief, Life after breast cancer, Life after cancer, Surviving cancer, Your body after cancer
For the first time in my life, I spend very few hours of the day thinking about my body. I’m not sure if this is a good or a bad thing, an even, or an or. It’s just a fact. I think about my posture and holding it appropriately, but that awareness developed way before...
by Ivy Hughes | Jul 2, 2019 | Cancer grief, Life after breast cancer, Life after cancer, Mindfulness, Raising kids after cancer, Raising twins, Surviving cancer, Survivorship, Uncategorized
Most weekday mornings at my house start with a boob search party. “Boys,” I say. “Help me find my boobs.” “Mama, boob. Mama boob,” says Ryder as he squats down to look under my bed. “Hmmmm,” says Loren, following his mother’s verbal thought cues. My two year olds are...
