Love, at least the ‘till death do us part’ kind, has eluded me for years. 

Whenever it came around, I kept my shoes by the door and prepared to run like hell after it, should it threaten to disappear. Inevitably, I would soon myself in a chest-heaving, brow—dripping, red-faced sprint as I watched Love round the corner and disappear out of my life. I would sink to the curb, clutching the tattered edges of my heart, while I told myself that next time, IT would end differently. I would find someone who wouldn’t leave me; who would give my life purpose; and who would make me feel like I mattered. If I waited patiently enough, I would find the Big, Crazy Audacious Love that I deserved.

But in October of 2009, I found cancer instead. The words 30 and single felt even more stifling when joined with the words breast cancer. Because I felt I had no other choice, I shelved my dream of a white wedding dress, a honeymoon in Florence, and three kids before the age of 38. Instead, with the support of my amazing friends, I settled into my new routine that included words like lymph node dissection, Docetaxel, and radical double mastectomy.

Eighteen months later, cancer finished chewing me up and spit me out. Thankfully, I could add survivor to the words single and now 32. But, lost in a post-treatment void that no-one warned me about, I searched for new words to reconnect me to something other than my age, my marital status, or my illness. After much thought, I settled on words to describe how I wanted to feel: healthy, loved, and inspired. 

In search of inspiration, I quit my six-figure job and set off for a 6-week volunteer trip to Africa and ending up finding LOVE. This love surprised me, delighted me, and healed me from cancer in a way I hadn’t expected. You see, it arrived in the form of a 2 year old little boy with chocolate brown eyes, an impish smile, and a little hand that each morning would find its way into mine.  

A beautiful little soul in the Townships of Cape Town taught me that love sometimes comes in a different package than we expect. He taught me that Real, Audacious, Crazy love has nothing to do with clingy attachment, proximity, or head over heels lust. Crazy, real, audacious love has no conditions. It means loving someone with your whole heart even if you may never see him again. It means loving someone regardless of how he feels about you. And it means, as hard as it might be, loving someone with no need for anything in return. 

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To read more about how falling in love in Africa has inspired my current trip around the globe and my dream to help other cancer survivors volunteer internationally (and hopefully find their own love and healing), please come visit me at A Fresh Chapter and read more about My Adventure Of Hope.