Die or Dye? The Confusion That Motivated Me!

 There’s an old story about a group of frogs climbing a tall tower in the middle of a forest. Apparently, frogs are very ambitious creatures. As the frogs began climbing, crowds gathered below to watch. But instead of cheering, the audience behaved exactly like social media comment sections in human form.

“You’ll never make it!”
“That tower is impossible!”
“Turn back before you fall!”

One by one, the frogs started listening. Some fell down and died. Some got injured. And one by one, they gave up. Except for one little frog. This frog kept climbing. No matter how loud the crowd became, no matter how impossible the climb looked, the frog just kept going. Slowly. Steadily. Determined. And finally… against all odds… it reached the top. The other frogs were shocked. 

“How did you do it?” they asked. 

That’s when they discovered the truth:

The frog was deaf. 

It had no idea everyone was discouraging it. The poor thing thought they were cheering. 😄

Honestly, I think I may have been that frog.When I was diagnosed with Stage 3 breast cancer at 29, people suddenly became experts on my future.

Some spoke in whispers.
Some spoke in statistics.
Some spoke in sympathy so dramatic you’d think they were auditioning for a tragic television serial.

And then there were the people who discussed death right in front of me.

“Oh, even people with the best treatment don’t survive cancer sometimes…”
“I knew someone who had exactly this…”
“It’s very difficult…”

Thank you, motivational committee. ❤️

But somewhere between chemotherapy, surgeries, fear, and survival mode, I think my brain accidentally became selective in what it heard. Because while people kept saying “die, die,” I apparently heard “dye, dye.” 💇‍♀️

So I carried on.

Then chemotherapy took away every strand of my hair.

And I remember looking at my bald head thinking,
“Well… this is awkward. How exactly am I supposed to dye THIS?” 😄

But life, thankfully, had other plans. The hair came back. Dark. Thick. Completely black. Of course it did—I was only 29. So I made a decision. I would wait. One day, when life gave me grey hair, I would dye it. And that became my tiny, silly, secret promise to myself:

Live long enough to complain about grey hair.

Years passed.

I survived.

But more importantly, I lived.Somewhere along the way, I stopped merely surviving cancer and started fully living life.

And one day, many years later, I stood in front of a mirror with hair dye in my hand and realised something beautiful:

I had become the deaf frog.

The world may have expected me to stop climbing long ago.

But I kept going because somewhere deep inside, I chose hope over noise. I did not stop after reaching the tower. 

I studied further.
I worked and built a career.
I rebuilt my confidence.
I became emotionally and financially independent.
I started a preschool filled with children, laughter, noise, crayons, chaos, and joy.

And moreover, just like that frog reaching the top of the tower…I lived long enough to dye my hair. ❤️