“I’m proud of you.”

Those words have been playing in my head on repeat since Tuesday night. It’s such a simple statement, yet it conveys so much. It’s a sentiment that I never dreamed anyone would say to me, especially during this season of my life when I am barely hanging on. And yet, as I departed my friend’s house, those were the exact words she shared.

It’s funny, because I remember a time not to long ago when I wasn’t the one hearing those exact words, but instead speaking them. In fact, I probably said that exact phrase to Emily so many times during the four years I knew her — and I meant it every single time.

She Overcame Health Issues

If you met Emily just one month before she died, you would have never guessed she had lived through heart failure and received a life-saving transplant just five years before. In fact, I don’t think I would have even known about it had she not shared, even though I met her less than one year after her transplant.

Some may say that Emily was able to overcome everything involved in her transplant so quickly because she was young. However, I think it’s because of her determination to overcome this health obstacle and resume “life as usual.”

Yes, a lot of this happened in the first six months with rehab and other recovery efforts. But, even the day before she died, it still required her to make health-conscious decisions and continuously overcome challenges that could (and often would) present themselves at the most inopportune moments.

When I was asked to share Emily’s story at a training event for Tennessee Donor Services, I couldn’t believe all the things I came up with to list for accomplishments she achieved between the time of her transplant and her death. She earned two college degrees, offered incredible workshops that shared her knowledge with others, spoke on the topic of her transplant, returned to dancing and playing the oboe, and much more.

To me, that shows Emily didn’t just overcome a difficult medical procedure — she thrived in its aftermath.

She Defeated “Karen”

When I met Emily in 2018, I quickly learned about one of her most significant struggles: anorexia. She battled body image issues and low self-esteem, and her solution to control these things was to “be skinny” (her words, not mine). And, although it was hard, she fought against her eating disorder (which she’d named “Karen”) because she ultimately knew her physical and mental health would be better without it.

As our friendship grew, I found that one of the biggest things I could do to support Emily was to encourage recovery-oriented decisions. Sometimes I’d meet her for a meal or a snack when she’d reach out and share that she was having a hard day. Other times I’d respond to disordered comments with sentiments like, “Tell Karen to STFU,” or, “Well, I know you’re having a bad body image day, but I think you look fantastic!” I even attended a few of her “family sessions” when she was doing IOP at Renfrew because I really wanted to encourage recovery.

Ultimately, Emily not only found her stride in recovery, but she really began to work through some of the underlying issues that contributed to her eating disorder. I remember telling her time and time again how proud I was of her for continuing to prioritize recovery even when she faced some overwhelming challenges. I knew she was going to be unstoppable one day when she lived out her dream of opening a treatment center because she was going to have the combination of working knowledge and lived experience. And boy, would I have loved to see it.

She Conquered Grad School

Obviously, I could list hundreds of things Emily did that made me proud of her. I am sure I sometimes annoyed her with my “biggest cheerleader” approach to everything she did, but I gave her plenty of warnings about that and she still chose to be with me (ha!). However, I do think earning her master’s degree was one of the biggest achievements I personally got a front row seat to, meaning I knew how determined she was to earn it and exactly how hard she worked to get there.

At first, I watched her deal with rejection. She made the decision to pursue a master’s degree in social work instead of going to seminary (and I learned exactly why later on). Unfortunately, her first two applications (MTSU and UTK) received rejection letters in response. I know this made her feel incredibly defeated and a bit lost as to what she should do next. However, she eventually found the courage to apply again, this time to University of Kentucky, and she got in. She was so excited (and nervous), but I knew she’d absolutely crush it.

Then, once she began the coursework, I watched her continue to show determination, resiliency, and grit. She continued to work full-time (and even had two jobs the first year) the entire time she was in grad school, even the last two semesters when she was also handling an internship. She dealt with an especially difficult professor, stayed up until the middle of the night to do group projects with someone in a completely different time zone, and even wrote an entire paper while we sat at a bar one night.

Once, sometimes twice, each semester, she’d completely fall apart. But, I’d sit with her, pass the tissues, hold her, whatever she needed until the overwhelming emotions passed and we could form a game plan. And you know what? She always pushed through her self-doubt, anxiety, and stress to pull out great grades by the end of the semester. And then in May 2022, we went to Lexington and she walked across that stage to collect her master’s degree.

I was just so impressed with her. Also, I low-key found it fun to brag about how I was going to marry a girl with a second degree black belt and a master’s degree. And, ultimately, I know she was proud of herself for that fancy ass degree, too.

My Turn To Overcome Impossible Odds

As I told my therapist on Friday, I have no idea how anyone, especially one of my best friends who has seen what a mess I’ve been these past 13 months, could possibly be proud of me. But, as I wrote this post out, I have to believe there were probably plenty of times when Emily wasn’t as proud of herself as I was of her. And that’s because both Emily and I shared the same fatal flaw — we always see ourselves as far less than the people we love see us.

I know there were days when Emily felt undeserving of the second shot at life her transplant gave her. There were days when she didn’t want to eat. And there were most definitely moments when she didn’t want to stay up late writing papers or record pretend therapy sessions with me. But you know what? She did the things. She persevered. And I was always proud of her, whether she called and went to Cracker Barrel with me or churned out an A+ paper at 11:00pm.

When my friend hugged me and said, “I’m proud of you,” on Tuesday night, I laughed and said, “I don’t know what that means.” She acknowledged how hard the past year has been, and pointed out that I’m still here and continuing to push myself, even though it’s hard and I often don’t want to. And without going into too much detail, she’s right.

There are days when the alarm goes off and I think, “How much longer do I have to do this? Why do I even bother?” There are also nights when I curl up in my bed and think, “Wouldn’t it be nice if I just didn’t wake up in the morning?” Yet, somewhere deep down inside, there’s a part of me who is still willing to fight. That part of me has always been there, continuing to push through a lifetime of challenges, trauma, and pain. But, I would also like to think that the fighter in me now has the added bonus of carrying that same determination and perseverance Emily had. After all, part of my duty as her partner is to continue sharing her with the world. And, that alone is enough to get me out of bed — even when I don’t want to or think I can’t.