The Unburnt

I am no longer the person I once was, but I am yet to be the woman I know I will become. You see, if you met me prior to 2018, you would find yourself speaking to a strong, fiery woman with seemingly limitless energy and a drive like no one else. Although that person is still inside me, there was always so much more to me than anyone in the crowds ever saw of me on the stage. Only my band and very close friends, who had witnessed the endless hours I would spend also acting as my own manager, booking agent, and PR representative, saw glimpses of the other skills that I had hidden inside that made our tours possible.

Finally, in January 2018, the house of cards I had been carefully balancing all along collapsed around me as though they never existed. The life I had built was not meant to withstand the weight of the next card dealt in my life; a sudden, severe illness. My career, my relationship, my friends, my body, my health... all crumbling before my eyes. It began with an extreme exhaustion that overwhelmed my body, followed by the weakening of the muscles in my extremities until I could no longer walk, let alone perform. All of the shows I had worked so hard to secure had to be cancelled. I began having spasms, seizures and stroke-like episodes and my eyesight began to leave me. It is almost funny to me now how most compliments I used to get regarding my best features most usually aimed at my legs or my eyes. It is almost as if they were also tired of being thought of so vainly and on the surface; never mind how strong my legs were or how perceptive my eyes.

I had been watching Game of Thrones along with the rest of the world, mesmerized by the character of Daenerys Targaryen, widely known as Khaleesi, recognizing her inner fire and self-assuredness that mirrored what I felt inside. With every leader who laughed in her face, I had a doctor telling me they could not find the reason I was ill; therefore, nothing was wrong with my body. (Clearly very mistaken.) With every obstacle she came to, I had another physical therapy session, attempting to learn to walk again on legs that I could no longer feel. With every reason to say she had gotten far enough on her journey, she continued on. She never gave up, and neither do I.

Throughout my days, I kept my sights on who I wanted to become out of this situation. Not a bitter, angry person who was so stuck in the past that I had learned nothing, but a person who had lived through a life-altering struggle and found a way forward unbroken. Someone who would be able to help others in similar situations find a new path away from their pain, where they could find light and hope for their own futures. Now I also had others whom I wanted to help, more chains to break; so, I kept going.

It has been three years now with every day still having its own challenges, but during that time I have also learned so much about myself and the world around me. For starters, I am so much stronger than I ever thought I would have to be or even could be. I know the difference between a true friend and those that are friends until you are no longer relevant to their world. I can distinguish real love versus the many people who sadly have no clue what that emotion truly entails. Now I actually know the meaning of a "bad day", whereas before my obstacles seem so trivial to me now. I feel purpose and hope.

I am not upset with my situation or mad at the world because I became ill, halting the music career I had worked so hard to build. When something burns down, it makes way for something even greater, even stronger, and even more spectacular to take its place. You just need the inner fire and self-assuredness not to fall into the ashes, but to instead to rise, unburnt.