Rebecca Balfe is a former editor for Love What Matters. She resides in NYC, owning and rescuing adorable cats. She is an avid Lupus fighter and advocate.

Rebecca Balfe is a former editor for Love What Matters. She resides in NYC, owning and rescuing adorable cats. She is an avid Lupus fighter and advocate.
“I dreamt of the day I’d turn in my baby dolls for the real deal. Fast forward 23 years, and here I am. Married to the man of my dreams. Our home is full, but our arms empty. We wanted the big family, sleepless nights, poopy diapers. We wanted it. So, we tried. And tried. After 6 months of negative tests, I knew something was off. They found 2 masses on my ovaries the size of a lemon and a golf ball.”
“The ultrasound tech brought me a box of tissues, tears welling up in her eyes. ‘What are the tissues for?’ I asked, confused. ‘There’s an 80% chance it’s cancer.’ I was completely shell-shocked. Numb. I couldn’t get out of the room and building fast enough. While others continued living their lives, I was stuck, sick. My life was put on hold.”
“I didn’t leave my bedroom for 7 months or my house for 11 months. Once every two weeks I was carried from the bed to the bath to be washed and changed into Pjs, then back to bed. This was my routine for 7 months.”
“Working, having a family, being active, or doing all the things a normal 30-something-year-old should do are no longer an option. But although pain may be inevitable, suffering is optional.”
“According to others, I’m undateable and unrapeable. I’m towheaded, gawky, fished-eyed. My hands and feet look like fins. I thought because everyone else hated me, I had to hate myself, too. I may not be the bee’s knees, but I grew up and found pride in ugliness.”
“I’ve heard many people say you don’t go through marijuana withdrawals. That’s ABSURD. I’d literally break into sweats at the sight of food and I would randomly barf every time I left town without weed. I mean, I wouldn’t dare bring weed to the airport, right? So, to make things better, I chose to not leave my house again! What an excellent idea, right? I truly thought it was the remedy to make things better. Quitting marijuana was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done.”
“I walked around the venue, trying to find a spot in the crowd. Then, we heard it. ‘GUN!’ Screams erupted. My friend and I shared a mutual look of terror before breaking into a sprint. Adrenaline carried us. Police officers ran towards us, guns pulled. ‘Keep your heads down!’ In the end? It was a popped water bottle. But I will remember it as if it were real because, in that moment, it was.”
“‘Your baby has a large mass. Prepare for the worst.’ I was learning how to be married, live in a city where we knew no one, being first-time teachers and parents to a baby who may or may not be okay. The older, wiser folks warned us to slow down. And yet none of this chaos ever silenced the call we felt to pursue adoption and fostering. Our life is absolutely crazy. But I look through my dark-circled eyes at this beautiful mess and know I’m right where I need to be.”
“I lost everything. I stepped out of jail with a few one-dollar bills and 3 cigarettes. I was missing a shoe, had blood on my shirt, and one of my fingernails was completely ripped off. I had taser burns on my arm and chest, and zero memory of my arrest. I faced the biggest decision of my life. I had to fight.”
“I was working as a marketing consultant. ‘What are you REALLY passionate about?’ I got on a soapbox about trauma and foster youth. She just looked at me and said, ‘That’s your passion girl. That’s your THING. Until you’re all in that, you’re not gonna get where you want to be!’ I quit my job. She was right.”