Make your mess your message

My mom committed suicide when I was 10. My first boyfriend raped and broke my rib at 22. I got diagnosed with stage 3 cancer at 29. My name is Nat, and if my story helps just one person - I’m happy I shared it.

As many of you, I was born a happy, healthy and curious baby who would love to entertain. I mean .. a lot of people in my teens even accused me for being on drugs, due to my unnatural energetic energy. At the age of 11 I was a kid TV-star, the middle child in a family of four (what used to be five). A dog named Rambo I was mortified by. That’s why they got him my dad used to say, for me to face my fears. I guess it helped, sort of. Not unlike a lot of families, our one had secrets.

11th March 2000, around 7pm, the police knocked on our door. I somehow knew what they was going to say. I remember it being a typical cold Swedish winter day. I couldn’t sleep the night before. All I could think of was where mom was at. She couldnt be out in the rain alone. I felt guilty for being in my warm bed that night. I still do sometimes. Mom and dad had been fighting the night before, a lot. My babybrother and I used to sleep in the same bed for comfort, watching the lion king loudly so the movie would overtake dads yelling and moms cry. Sometimes it could get scary when they argued, but there was something odd with that morning… 10th March 8:am my mother Pia, gently woke me up. She told me to pick my favorite outfit and asked what I wanted for breakfast. It was just her and me. I was late for school but that was fine. My younger brother was already at the nursery. Looking back at it I understand she wanted each and everyone of the kids to have a special moment with her before she was about to end her life. Some sort of closure for her I guess, a message to us that she loved us, dearly.

Her father you see, didn’t do that at all, he hung himself in the Finish Forrest where my mom had grown up when she was 11. no personal goodbyes there. Suicide traits run in the family science claims and judging by my mothers family, they are right. Her brother, my uncle and her dad followed by his dad had all choosen to end their life aswell as my auntie and one of her two daughters. The daughter, my cousin was only 25 when ending hers. I was 22.

We didn’t see any of that, my sister and brother - everything was dads fault, for arguing with mom until she took her life and no one could convince us otherwise. He was ‘dead‘ to me a long time, the source of all evil for many, many years, yet all I wanted was his unconditional attention and love, which of course I never got, non of my siblings did. I searched for it elsewhere. In equally destructive boys. Boys who reminded me of my dad. Emotionally unavailable and impossible to please.

This is, of course a disaster recipe for an 18 year old girl unaware of how damaged she was emotionally. The ‘perfect’ boy impossible to please was my solution to escape reality. To focus all my energy on pleasing someone impossible to please. It ended 4 years later with him breaking my rib because I bought basmati instead of yasmine rice.

Let’s get it straight. Toxic relationships are destructive. They are also a habit. Your brain does not know the difference between a bad and a good habit. It simply goes back to what it’s used to. With a bit of knowledge and willpower you can therefor change your habits. Any habits.

I was a heartbroken 23 year old, emotionally exhausted. I hated myself, my mother for taking her life and my father for not seing her suffering and continued his fights. I knew it was wrong to get beaten up but somehow it felt right, like I deserved it. The shame of my past lingered and I allowed other people to treat me badly. It was almost a satisfying feeling getting punished.

It took me two years to heal from my past relationship and I knew I had to break the destructive relationship with my family, friends and patterns if I ever wanted a change. I moved to a different country, leaving everyone behind. I ended up in London, where I finally got to rediscover who I was without old patterns pulling me in to toxic situations. Moving country was scary, but the best thing I’ve done in my entire life. I met my partner and evolved in my cooperate career but most importantly I realised life isn’t black or white.

My mother didn't leave me or my siblings, or my father for that matter. It was no ones fault she past away. She fell ill, a neurogical illness that ran through her family. unfortunately her disease took her. An instant feeling of healing came through my body. Compassion. God works wonders through prayers. Somehow I hadn’t lost myself completely, I just had to take a step outside of the bubble I was in. I rang my father to apologise and ever since we have had an amazing relationship.

I felt free, liberated to create not what I was people thought I was but who I wanted to become. The hard times was over I thought. Sure arguments and insecurity was there but normality was a lovely feeling for someone like me, empty, but normal.

I was never an insecure person. I didn’t think much of my looks, what clothes I was wearing or what size I was. That all gradually started to change and I realised that insecuritys are thriving in a privilege world.

There was no time to worry about material things in a traumatic environment. My dress size never used to bother me but now that there’s not many ‘real‘ problems surfacing I observed that my obsession over how I looked and what I wore became a problem. I had become guilty of being trapped in what you call a modern class-society. I wanted a Chanel bag, designer trainers and cars. All that was never important to me before had become serious priorities.

Being unbothered about material things is something I took great pride in. And I wouldn’t change now, after getting this far. I started to realise how much my trauma had benefited my way of viewing life. Trauma had gave me gratitude, compassion and overcoming tough situations has given me confidence. If I could brake free from a destructive toxic relationship traits then I can overcome the materialistic class society. I started practising affirmation. 2 min daily, telling myself how material things doesn‘t define you - and it worked. I felt liberated, free and genuinely happy. Happy for going through trauma that had thought me valuble lessons very early in life and I felt blessed I didnt fell for the endless wheel of chasing material objects for quick satisfaction.

Life was good. My partner and I had made the decision to move back to his parents to save up for our own home. Work was going well and I had created a lovely supportive friendship group in London and I kept my closest ones in Sweden. Family was lovely, supportive and amazing, life was incredible. And that’s when cancer stroke. Cancer. I was 29. What are the odds? Me? I’ve already been through my hell God, health was all I had. If anything I was looking after my mental health due to my family history but the big C?

Dr said 50/50 survival chance and you’ll loose your fertility.

I’d lost it. becomig a mom is all I’ve ever wanted. Loosing fertility? Die? NOW when everything is starting to look up? I was drained by the thought of going through that, in a different country without my family. I was scared. My partner was incredible throughout and I managed to freeze eggs for a possibility to become pregnant in the future.

Chemo, radiation and chemo almost killed me, apparently I am anemic and at one point, if I didn’t receive an emergency blood transfusion I would be dead today. Pain changes you. I wasn’t strong, brave or empowered. I was weak. Tired. I wanted to give up everyday. But my oncologist turned around and reminded me of the most crucial saying in history; pain is temporary and better days will come. I was angry at God. I felt betrayed. Robbed. I always thought I’d break free from all trauma and eventually ‘blow up’ in success. But the world thought different. I did recover and im cancer free as of March 2020. I caved in and started praying again and God lifted me through my weakest time. It was beautiful. But all I could think of was, what a waste of life. I didn‘t do anything I wanted. All Ive done is learning from different traumas.

I’ve been cancer free for two months today and tomorrow I’m quitting my job to pursue my own business, to live my live to the fullest. Every single day. please don’t give up on cognitive behavioural therapy, know you can change your brains patterns and be brave enough to chance your life. And don’t forget to live. It might not be how it was supposed to be in your head but it’s yours. Go out and live it.