Cancer is many things. How’s that for a sentence with zero meaning? Yeah, great. Anyway, what I mean is, cancer is not just a disease. It is primarily that, but it is also a club you can join, wearing a pink ribbon or a yellow rubber bracelet. It can take over an identity. It is a monster. It can act as a teacher. What it is not, is a diet plan.
I’ve lost a fair amount of weight since I started chemo back in November of 2010. It’s fine. I don’t miss it.
Every now and again, I run into a guy I haven’t seen in a while. Most recently, this happened at a memorial service — not a traditional pick-up site. At least, it shouldn’t be. “Whoa!” said the man I was greeting, “I almost didn’t recognize you. You been going to the gym?”
“I have cancer,” I said.
“Oh, yeah. I had cancer…” (launches into story I don’t care about.)
I’ve run into other guys who feel that they have the right to check out my new, lighter frame, give me the once-over, and tell me in an inappropriate tone that I’m “looking good…” It is so offensive to me to be viewed as a sexual being, as if I lost weight through cancer simply to look better. I loathe them for seeing only opportunity, for overlooking my entire situation. I really do not require long expressions of sympathy from every person I meet, in fact I prefer not to have that at all. But for guys who know my situation, I would really hope that they wouldn’t turn lascivious. It is not flattering.
I don’t go anywhere anymore, so this happens infrequently, but I got a voicemail from a certain idiot who won’t take a hint or a direct rejection. He didn’t ask about my health at all. Obviously, I’m not dating right now, if I were, I wouldn’t date him, and I’m not calling him back.
I did not get cancer so my skinny jeans would fit better. Side note: my mother is also fixated on my weight. I came out dressed in some straight jeans, and she said, “Wow… Are those a 4?” “Eight,” I said. “You look so skinny,” she said. It’s so great! It took only 37 years and a life-threatening illness to win her approval!
It’s crazy! It’s sexy! It’s cancer!!!
I can’t tell you how repulsed I am by guys who suddenly find me attractive. Next time I encounter one, the slapping will begin. Get it together, idiots. Not everything is about your stupid penis. (oh no! I’m a lesbian feminazi!) Well, whatever. My disease, my body, my rules.