Cheers to two thriving years!

Two years ago this morning I got up at the crack of dawn and my mom and I hopped in the car and we were off to UC Medical Center for my journey to begin. Never did I think at the time that there was even a journey to be had. I thought I was going to have surgery, quietly recover and in a few weeks I'd be back to work and life without much else involved. 

Since then, I so fortunately gained a voice in the community, have been given so, so many awesome opportunities to share my story and my life has evolved in such a positive way I can barely put it into words. 

There are so many people I want to thank - for being my supporters and my fighters and my sense of peace when I have a random freakout moment (it happens). I could never say thank you enough or find words for all of you, but I'll try my best:

Thank you to my advocates - my supporters who may be friends, coworkers, friends of our families, long-distance followers to my story, my doctors and BFFs within the UC Medical Center circle and so many more. I continually am amazed at the kind words I receive and motivational pushes that keep me going. I owe so much to all of you! Please know that I appreciate your support every single day. Each and every text, email, call, Sametime makes me remember why I'm doing what I'm doing, and I can continue my mission and work because of you guys.

Thank you to my incredible friends - my high school best friends who have literally been with me longer than I have memory, and that know me better than I know myself. Clearly I haven't always been easy to deal with, but thank you for always being my besties, and continuing our philosophy of being (responsibly) on the loose, always. Thank you to my Bobcat girlfriends - who keep the (crazy) spirit of OU alive every time we get together. We may not be back in the promise land of Athens very often, but I look forward to every time we're together and can laugh about the stupid things we did and friendships we gained back in the days on the bricks. And thank you to my Cincinnati friends - who I am seriously blessed beyond measure that Kev brought you all into my life. I may hate on the excessive amount of Turpin inside jokes, but I'll be an honorary THS alum for the rest of my life if it means I get all of you to stay in mine. 

Thank you to my families - To my mom who is my #1 fan in everything I do. You may have to be because you're my mom, but I appreciate it always and wouldn't be who or where I am today without you pushing me. Between you graciously helping with every little thing I need in life, and Mark willingly hanging every frame, mirror and shelf in our house, I'm confident Kevin and I will survive our first year of homeownership. To Jenny & Liv - for keeping me laughing at all times in life, supporting me 100% and for knowing how retail therapy can sometimes be the only thing to stop tears (cue Easter 2 years ago, sometimes you need a new purse to feel better. Lol!) In all seriousness, I think Dad would be so proud of each of his three girls. And to my new extended in-laws family - I lucked out big time with you guys and I'm so fortunate to have another family who is the epitome of work hard, play hard, love hard.

And to my sweet, sweet Kev - how do I even put into words how much I appreciate you? The reason I was able to go through all of this - the ups, downs and in-betweens - and still feel beautiful after every day, is because of you. I look forward to so many more years of YOLOing and making an adventure out of every opportunity we have. God blessed me big time by crossing our paths in little Athens, Ohio, over a shared love of Ninja Turtle shots at the Crystal and belting out tunes on long car rides. And p.s., most importantly, thanks for dealing with my craziness on a daily basis. You, my dear, are a saint.

So join me in a virtual cheers today! The last two years have been scary, exciting and filled with a whole lot of thriving. And the best part? The journey is nowhere near the end, and there is so much more to come.

Thanks for reading and supporting me and just being part of my crew. This one's to all of you!

Xoxo,
Molly

Giving up would have been so easy

Two years ago this month, I had my first surgery. What you may not know, or not remember now that you've been (so graciously) listening to it for so long, is that at that time, it wasn't this hugely known "thing" I was doing. I hadn't begun shouting it from the rooftops or writing about it or really telling people outside of my circle. It was still scary and unknown and kind of embarrassing.

And then something happened. Somewhere between recovering, being surrounded by so much love and support and getting my life back together, I found my "thing." I found this emotional, empowering platform to stand on and be a voice for other young women that have a strong family history or maybe even have a BRCA mutation, too. I re-found my love for writing and started to feel like what I did and my courage to speak up about it could really be impactful to the lives of so many, rather than just myself.

But it wasn't always easy. Now two years later, it's obviously much more fun to remember all the cool people I've met and experiences I've been able to be a part of, but that wasn't all of it. There were times where I was worried about my scars, literally and figuratively, re-appearing and not always being able to be this extremely positive "you go girl" type person.

I was thinking about this little rut I almost allowed myself to get in, as I was re-reading some of my old blog posts. It really is an energizing thing for me to go back and revisit old stories and posts and times in my life. It's so easy to keep looking ahead, but so much happened, and I'm glad I have a lot of it literally archived.

I wrote a post about the fear of losing my identity, back in January 2015. And as I was reading this one, it kind of made me a little sad. I clearly was having a bit of a hard time adjusting to who I was becoming and where I had been and where I should go next. It wasn't until now, 15 months later, that I'm looking back and thinking, "Wow. I could have so easily just let this go." Of course I ended that blog post on a positive note, keeping that "you go, girl" attitude I so strive to make consistent, but clearly it wasn't enough. 

It wasn't until six months after that downer of a post that I came back to The Molly Effect. Yes, I had bachelorette parties and home-buying and a wedding keeping me busy during then, but I chose to stay away from here. And I know it was out of fear of the unknown. And maybe a little awkwardness. It was hard to get back to writing when I didn't know where I was going or what I was going to do next. And to be honest. I don't really know when the switch flipped. But it did.

What I'm trying to get at here is that it would have been so easy to say, you know, I did this "thing" and made this impact and now I'm ready to stop working at it. That would have been so easy and I don't think anyone would have blamed me. But that would have been so, so lame. Little did I know back then that my story was just beginning, and that I had the ability to determine the next chapters ahead.

I'm not anywhere near the ending of my story, but I know I'm glad I kept it going. 

Nearly two years later, I'm finding more ways to make a difference, more ways to share my story and more courage to keep it going.

If you're in a place right now where you feel like giving up or calling it quits just because you can't see where you'll go next or how you're going to get there, I'm going to tell you to hold on. Your best, most compelling chapters of your story could still be ahead, even if they're unclear or not quite ready to be written. I'm telling you this because I'm glad I had people telling me the same thing, and encouraging me to not be done just yet.

And to all my advocates out there, thanks for keeping me afloat and continually empowering me to find my next "thing," and also to keep this one going. I'm so grateful for all that's happened in the last two years, and am excited that soon I'll have even more new pieces of my story to share with you here (fun projects in the works!) Until then, I'll just keep jogging down memory lane, brainstorming and daydreaming my next few chapters (and blog posts). 

Hang in there. I'm so glad I did.  Xoxo,
Molly

It's about 35 degrees this morning in Cincinnati, so let's also flashback to much warmer (and the happiest!!) times in Jamaica on our honeymoon last June. Cheers to spring weather hopefully arriving soon!

Fearing to ask the question: Am I losing my identity?

It's been more than a year since I first decided to move forward with my prophylactic mastectomy, more than 3 and a half years since my dad passed away, and just shy of 6 years since I tested positive for the BRCA1 genetic mutation. And the craziest throwback of them all? The very last part of my surgery and reconstruction was complete just nine days ago. So the obvious (at least to me) question presents itself: Is it all over? Is the person I've become throughout this journey ending her reign of breast cancer Previvor queen? And the scariest question of all: Who am I now? The short answer is that I am changed. Physically, emotionally, I am a changed woman. Having to deal with physical trials and pain for pretty much the first time in my life was hard, though it made me realize how strong you can be when you need to, and how minimal my pain and trials were, compared to if I would have gotten sick, and not had this as a preventative procedure.

God love one of my BFFs for being the one friend that always asks you the "what was your best and worst of the last year" when it's your birthday type questions. I'm lucky enough that my crew of best friends celebrated my reconstruction completion this past weekend, and naturally, at dinner, this BFF posed the question to both Kevin and I of "what, when now looking back, are we surprised about now that this whole ordeal is complete?" Kev's answer was frighteningly so true: When we look now at those we've either met over the last few months, or even just seen from afar, that are fighting the battle of breast cancer, and especially at such a young age, it definitely scares us straight. The few months of struggles were 100% the right choice, for both of us. My odds were just simply not in my favor, and I did something to fix that. I can't predict the future, but I can say with confidence that I lowered my risk of becoming one of those statistics.

Emotionally, I've been on a roller coaster. I'd say most of the time I've been on top of the ride, able to use this experience as a positive one, staying confident and optimistic. But there were some days I went down the hill and struggled to climb back up. I took things out on people who didn't deserve it, I avoided others, and sometimes let myself get down. But now looking back, I think it was all deserved. I deserved a day or two to be hurting, emotionally or physically, and I deserved to be mad that I had to miss out on something, or mad at the forgotten friend who didn't reach out. It made my skin a little thicker, and gave me the ability to climb myself back to the top of the ride and realize all of the good things and good people I have in my life. I did not come out bitter, I can promise you that.

I guess I'm most scared of losing the identity of the person I've become. I've always had some type of added identity, not necessarily by choice, but always there. Whether it be the girl in the sorority who's dad is sick, the girl with the weird genetic thing or now the girl who had the mastectomy. And I'm not mad about it. If anything, it's helped shape who I am to myself and who I am to others, hopefully in a pleasant light, for overcoming these situations. But, it is scary, thinking I'm losing something that's helped give me a confidence, or a motivation to be better and to do better.

So the silver lining? There is still so much more to share, so many more lives to touch and hopefully many more lives to save. My work now is not just who I am, but my mission. Because now I've done more than share my story and journey as I've gone through it. I've actually overcome it and have the ability to move forward. And I'm going to at least let myself believe that's more than a stigma, or even an identity. My mission is powerful, and now I have even more time to dedicate to serving that mission (and plan a wedding while I'm at it).

So thank you, each and every one of you that reads this, that has supported me all along the way and has shown me love in such beautiful gestures. It's because of that support, love and faith that I can say I am finished with this stage of my journey, and am incredibly happy with the new, healthy and refreshed person I am.

It's not over, it really is just a new beginning and a time to fight for other young high-risk women to have a louder voice in the world. I don't have to be scared (for long at least) that the person I am is changed, but proud of who I have been and am now, because that pride is something that can carry forward.

So I hope you continue to follow the next steps of my journey, because as I said, there is much more to share, and much, much more to come.

Xoxo, Molly

“My mission in life is not merely to survive, but to thrive; and to do so with some passion, some compassion, some humor, and some style.” - Maya Angelou

Being the engaged mastectomy girl: Wedding planning with a totally doable twist

My fiancé Kevin and I got engaged on a random Thursday night this past March. The best part is that it was totally one of those moments where you kind of black out and don't really remember what is going on, but I do remember calling all my girlfriends and saying "OMG I just got engaged at 5:30 p.m. on a Thursday!" Not only was it a random Thursday in March, but it was also just two weeks and a few days shy of my first surgery date. So unknowingly at the time, I became not just the 25-year-old having the double mastectomy, but the engaged 25-year-old having the mastectomy. It was something that somehow managed to fascinate people around me, and was also the absolute best distraction at the absolute best possible time. (Props to Kev on timing that one up just right.)

And so the shuffling began. Managing wedding planning and surgery, and then recovering, while still wedding planning. So we celebrated for two weeks, and then got into surgery mode. Looking back it all went so fast that I'm not sure I realized the full extent of life's craziness until now, but I'd do it all over again. What better of a time to be surrounded by friends, family and supporters?

So what did I learn from this process? That's the important part. There were many lessons I stumbled upon through the course of being the engaged double mastectomy girl (still am, so keep 'em coming), and this is one of those posts I hope some awesome chick out there either contemplating or going through a preventative surgery like mine can find and take comfort in. Because your engagement is supposed to be fun! And it totally is, even if you're going through a trying time. And it also goes for those that may not have a significant other in their lives yet and worry about having the surgery before finding love. I want to guarantee you there are men out there who will love you, scars and all, and planning your future wedding will be a piece of cake after you've conquered your high-risk.

What I want you to remember:

No one needs to know, or can tell from the outside, unless you want them to I am a prime example of this. You would be surprised that after going through an 8+ hour surgery, a night in the hospital and having horrible drains in you for a week, after week two or three of recovery, no one can really tell by looking at you on the outside. The first wedding venues I looked at, I went to during my initial recovery. I got myself together, put on some makeup, straightened my hair, and no one would have ever known what I was going through. It was a confidence booster for me. To get out and about and be "the bride" looking at venues, with the wedding coordinators not having a clue. I just want women to know that. It's not a scarlet letter you're wearing on your chest. You're still the same chick, in my case engaged chick, that you were before. Don't let your surgery, your recovery, the scars, anything define you. Because at the end of the day, you're still you and a little self-pride can do you well.

People in the wedding industry have seen it all This is phenomenal to me! I was so, so fortunate to have two of my awesome friends Grace and Anne make me an appointment at KLEINFELD'S in NYC while I was in the city for a trip earlier this summer. I mean, going to Kleinfeld's is every engaged chick's dream. And here I was living it! Aside from the hilariousness of the place itself, the crazy women inside and the extreme amount of bridal gowns everywhere, what I took away from this experience was how unfazed they were at my current situation. Before we began the process of picking gowns for me to try on, I awkwardly spoke up and said "Umm there's something I think I should tell you." The woman working with us looked at me and said, "Honey, that doesn't bother me one bit, I've seen it all." And seriously acted like I was the crazy one for thinking it was a big deal. Her and her assistant put me in and out of dresses like I was any other woman in there, and that made me feel so at ease. It was the weekend before my "exchange" surgery, so my expanders were at their fullest, AKA most uncomfortable, stage, yet these women put me in dresses and made me feel completely beautiful. It didn't matter what I was going through on the inside; I was a beautiful bride-to-be that day.

Remember why you're engaged, and don't ever stop celebrating that Engagement is about the love between the two of you. Not just you. Not just him. And this was something I had to remind myself. I was the one having the dramatic few months, with hospitals and attention, but the engagement and wedding planning process helped me remember why I deserved some extra positivity even through the pain and hard days. We're getting married! We're planning what will be the best day and night of our lives! And that is worth celebrating every day, whether you're in pain from the expanders or not. Having my wedding to plan and look forward to 100% got me through my recovery. Sure, planning a wedding comes with a bit of drama and tough decisions, but at the end of the day, I'm the luckiest girl in the world and I had Kevin by my side to celebrate every day.

I am so blessed to have the next six months to continue celebrating my engagement, future wedding and the life we have to look forward to. I may be that chick who had the double mastectomy right now, but at the end of the day, I'm still just thrilled to be Kevin's fiancé .

Xoxo, Molly

Lean, green recovering machine: Smart and healthy choices for a speedy recovery

When it comes down to it, having this surgery in your mid-twenties just isn’t too mainstream yet. You can do as much Googling as you want, but finding good, reliable content isn’t as easy as you’d think. What I really wanted to find was a young, health-conscious chick’s guide to getting through the recovery stage from this surgery while keeping up a healthy lifestyle and mental well-being. So after scouring the Internet for weeks pre-surgery, and now after my own personal experience, here's what I feel compelled to tell you: your recovery will be based on YOU and YOUR body. Don't get down when you're not hitting the gym for the first few months, or be upset when you have a day that you just need to sit on the couch and veg. What's important is to listen to your body. This is a major surgery that requires major recovery.

I continue to say to people how surprised I am at how well I recovered. But let’s cut the BS – I worked my butt off to prepare and to focus on everything I could do to allow a healthy lifestyle positively affect my recovery. It wasn't an easy task by any means but determination and dedication made it possible. This blog post will be the first step in taking some pride in my quinoa-eating, green tea-drinking healthy bod. So here you are, Molly’s 5-step guide on how to prepare yourself and work through your recovery period by capitalizing on healthy lifestyle choices:

1. Prepare your health ahead of your surgery date

Say you work out twice a week. A few weeks, or a few months if you can, kick it up a notch and do 3-4 nights of cardio at the gym. I've read multiple articles that suggest the better shape you’re in before the surgery, the easier it will be to bounce back after the surgery. This, I absolutely believe, is true. I focused on working out, eating healthy and drinking lots of water pre-surgery, which I think in turn made doing all of the things you’ll read below easier and more of a natural routine. My fave pre-mastectomy workout tip: planks, planks and more planks. I read an awesome article on Bright Pink’s website that said some women work on toning their ab muscles pre-surgery so they can stand in for the chest muscles when necessary. I will say ten times over that the only reason I was able to sit up in the hospital bed was because I could use my stomach muscles. Do the planks.

2. Stock up on healthy foods

Disclaimer: I took this one very seriously. Prior to my surgery, I had researched the best power foods to stock in the fridge, smoothie recipes to have on hand, and was determined to stick to eating healthy once I was home. I 100% believe that the healthy foods I consumed post-surgery helped me feel better quickly. Plus, it was neat to try new recipes and have some fun with super healthy foods. Faves: quinoa bowls (recipes to come soon!), green smoothies and the always yummy Greek yogurt with berries, granola and almonds. I’m definitely not saying only eat greens and never eat chocolate (I have to have chocolate or I’d go crazy) but as my mom always says, “everything in moderation.” The healthy eating will pay off and what better of a time to get healthy than when your body needs it most.

3. Drink lots of water & no alcohol (yes, I'm serious!)

I love a good margarita like the rest of them, but giving up the booze for more than a month after surgery was surprisingly awesome. Granted, it's obvious that you shouldn’t start chugging beers when you’re on pain medicine and recovering, but it was the few weeks after being off pain meds, and still not drinking alcohol, that seemed to really help. I focused on drinking tons of water (hint: get flavored water or fill yours with lemons and cucumbers if you get bored and need a little variety). I never thought I’d be so happy to ditch the drinking, but it truly did help, and my hair and skin benefitted as well! So focus on the positives of your few weeks of sobriety: saving money on the weekends and no hangovers! (Plus, it’ll make that first glass of wine a few weeks down the road that much better!)

4. R&R

This one could also seem like a no-brainer, but really resting, especially the first two weeks, really helped in the long-run of my recovery. And I mean resting both physically and mentally. Resting your brain (replacing work emails with cheesy DVDs) was just as helpful as resting my body. It wasn’t that I was doing zero physical activity, it was just knowing when my body needed to rest. I was able to take short walks just a few days after the surgery, but I was smart in also following those walks and bursts of energy with napping, reading wedding mags and catching up on TV shows. It can be easy to want to push it when you’re used to being so active, but your body just went through a whole lot, so the least you can do is listen to it when it’s telling you to take a breather. Need a turn-your-brain-off guilty pleasure DVD suggestion? Two words: Tim. Riggins. You won’t be disappointed.

5. Accept the support you are given

I continue to be in awe every day of the tremendous amount of support I was shown in my decision to have this surgery. From my friends and family who had listened to me talk and worry about this for months, to my coworkers who didn’t find out until I was missing from work, I am so blessed. My mental well-being was uplifted constantly from the kind words and messages I received not only after my surgery but as I planned for it. I think having such a support system and allowing people to help me prepare for it enabled me to go into the surgery day with less anxiety. I knew I would come out on the other side with words of love and encouragement. It wasn’t always easy to tell people about my decision, but I’ve yet to find one person in my life that didn’t react with complete compassion and understanding. I hope anyone that goes through this type of endeavor can know that level of support and use it to fuel their positive preparation and recovery period.

Xoxo, Molly