Yesterday, October 25th, officially marked two years since my last chemo infusion to treat Hodgkin’s Lymphoma.
I’ll admit — I didn’t realize what day it was at first. There wasn’t some big countdown like a birthday or anniversary. And when I finally did realize, it hit me harder than I expected. I knew the date was coming up, and I knew I wanted to write about it here, but I procrastinated thinking about it. I told myself, “I’ll think about it on the day.”
And then suddenly, there it was — the day — and I felt blindsided.
💭 Revisiting “That Day”
At first, my mind went straight back to that original October 25th in 2023. To be honest, it wasn’t a great day.
What I’d imagined would be full of joy and celebration ended up feeling disappointing and frustrating. I gave my emotional power away — not consciously, but I did.
As I started writing about it, I got sucked right back into that version of myself — angry, hurt, raw. I wrote, deleted, rewrote. The emotions were heavy. I could feel them crawling up through the keys. It was like I’d time-traveled, sitting at my kitchen table but right back there.
Eventually, I realized how foul I was feeling and stopped. I went to Heath, told him what was happening, and he just hugged men and listened. We talked, and he gently helped pull me out of that dark loop. He asked what I wanted to do that day just for fun, and the answer came easily: I wanted a pedicure — and I wanted him to go with me.
So we did. 💅 It was simple but healing. Heath had never been to a nail salon before, so it became this small, joyful adventure for both of us.
🌸 Choosing Growth Over the Old Loops
Instead of spiraling back into the pain of that day, I decided to focus on how far I’ve come in two years.
Two years ago, old Bailz would have let those emotions derail the entire day. She would’ve curled up in bed and let the pain consume her — because that was familiar. That was what she knew.
But new Bailz recognized the loop. She spoke up. She asked for help. She chose to redirect.
That’s the difference.
Now, I’m learning to take care of myself in the hard moments, not just when things feel easy. I’m keeping promises to myself because I finally know I’m worth the work.
💪 Two Years of Becoming
If old me could see me now, I don’t think she’d believe it.
Going to bed and waking up at the same time?
Not snoozing the alarm four times?
Eating consistently, moving my body, and actually being kind to myself?
Who is this girl?!
Two years ago, I was terrified to speak up about what I needed. I thought advocating for myself was selfish or rude. I thought the things that lit me up were fine for other people — just not for me, because no one had handed me permission.
I had no idea how small I was making myself just to keep the peace.
🕊 Turning Pain Into Purpose
But here’s the thing: that difficult day — the last chemo day I was so angry about — ended up being a catalyst.
It pushed me to write that letter to my family.
It pushed me to finally speak up and take up space.
The fallout was painful. There was grief, depression, and a long stretch of darkness. I held out hope that accountability might come, that relationships could heal. But when that didn’t happen, I started rebuilding without them.
And now… I look around at this life I’ve built, and I am so proud of myself.
🌻 What I’ve Learned in Two Years
If I had to boil it all down to one lesson, it’s this:
You only get one life — love it.
And if you don’t love it, change it.
That’s what I did.
I started speaking up for myself. I started holding people accountable — and when they refused, I learned to walk away. I’ve grieved. I’ve healed. I’ve grown.
I’ve gotten tattoos simply because I wanted them. I’ve taken myself on solo vacations. And earlier this year, Heath and I eloped — just the two of us (with our photographers as witnesses). We made that day ours. No guilt. No permission. Just love.
That, to me, is the definition of healing — living life on your own terms, with self-trust and self-compassion leading the way.
🌞 Here’s to Two Years of Change
Two years post-chemo.
Two years of reclaiming my life.
Two years of learning to choose peace, joy, and authenticity — over and over again.
All the work I’ve done can’t change the past. But it has changed how I see it — and how I see myself.
Here’s to many more years of growth, of healing, of living fully.
💜
Love always,
Bailz
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