I am the Warrior

A warrior is an individual who is experienced at combat, particularly within a tribe or clan.  It is also defined as a person who has shown great vigor, courage, or aggressiveness.  There are many ways to define what a warrior is.  I come from a long line of literal warriors.  I am a McFarland, or in Gaelic, MacParlan.  The name originated from the sons and progeny of Parlan.  The McFarland clan was known long before even the thirteenth century to be one of the most warring tribes in Gaelic land.  The family crest illustrates this war-like drive, the crest depicting a man above it holding a sword with the Gaelic words, “This I will defend.” 

I am no stranger to the warrior drive of the McFarland’s.  My dad has always been driven and you didn’t dare cross him as a child because hell hath no fury like that of a McFarland.  If my dad got mad at my sister and me for something naughty that we had done, you knew to run if he put his index finger in his mouth and bit it.  You’d better run or you were going to get it, a spanking that is.  My dad and his brothers and sisters are very mellow and level-headed people, but if you piss them off, you’re going to know it.  They don’t pussy-foot around when they’ve been pushed over the edge and when they’re mad, they’re steaming.  

It’s a character trait that is not admired in our culture, but I have always been proud of my family’s directness and will to succeed.  I come from a typical Irish-American family that are proud and forthright people.  You stand up for what is right, you don’t coward, and you face any hardships life throws at you with strength and pride.  You certainly don’t piss and moan about it and you “take it like a man.”  I am proud to say I am a McFarland and this is my lineage and my destiny.

For the past few years, there has been mounting research studying the genetics of so called warriors - people who are aggressive or physically strong.  This research has identified a gene in them which produces a high level of an enzyme called Monoamine Oxidase A.  Monoamine Oxidases (or MAO’s) are enzymes in everyone’s body that breakdown neurotransmitters in the brain, such as dopamine and norepinephrine – which help regulate mood.  Simply put, people with high levels of MAO’s in their bodies are thought to have a higher propensity for depression, anxiety, aggression, and other psychological problems.  Monoamine Oxidase A is a form of an MAO that has been found in high quantities in people who are aggressive and have a high survival instinct.  The gene that codes for this particular MAO has now been dubbed “the warrior gene.”  It is widely accepted by scientists that people who are aggressive and have a strong will to persevere no matter what, most likely carry the warrior gene.  The newest research on the warrior gene shows that people who possess it are more likely to survive cancer and tend to have a better outcome after treatment.   

It is a joke between me and my husband Marcus that there is no way I don’t carry the warrior gene.  I am a McFarland, coming from ancestors that were savage warriors, and I have a disease that I have beat into submission.  And it has become an even bigger joke with my daughter, as she is the biggest warrior I have ever met in my life.  She makes my childhood fights with my mother look like pleasant conversations.  If Bluma had been born into a Native American tribe, she most certainly would have been named “Stands with a Fist.”  As much as she causes problems for Marcus and me parenting her, I wouldn’t want it any other way.  I am proud that she and my son are firecrackers, and although difficult to guide them, I know this character trait will serve them well as adults.

Why am I ending these 21 days of thoughtfulness and inspiration with a blog about being a warrior, of all things?  When I look back on my days as an FAP patient, my memories of being bullied, and my awkward teenage years, I feel that I was weak and insignificant.  But when I think about my life now, and how I currently feel about myself and my disease, I feel very much like I am a warrior.  I don’t cry about little things and I don’t whine about pain and tiny earthquakes in my life.  I see people around me crumbling from everyday events and then crying out in the community and social media for pity and support.  While everyone needs help from time and time and it does take a village, I wonder how so many people get through life when they are in so much need, so often, of emotional and physical support for every day dilemmas.  I am a warrior and proud to say, I can fight alone and have done it many times.  I’m not afraid to do it with merely my own two hands and I’m a better woman for it.  I think it is admirable and, depending on the situation, essential to go through that battle alone because you will discover that you are strong and can endure no matter what. 

You don’t have to win a war, or climb a 14er, or be trendy and run a marathon, or even battle cancer to be a warrior.  You don’t have to do anything incredible to be an everyday warrior.  You just have to take life as it comes, handle it, learn from it, and move on with strength and grace.  Writing these past three weeks has made me inspect my beliefs about persevering, surviving, and living meaningfully.  I was never very mindful of how much my disease had shaped who I was and who I’ve become.  I always thought I was different because I just am weird.  This experience has made me see that I am quite different from the people around me because my life experiences have been very unique. 

There is only a very small part of me that wishes I hadn’t gone through those things and that I’d be more like everyone else around me, ignorant of suffering if I may say so.  But when I really think deeply about it, to my core, I know that I am proud to be tough and I’m proud to think differently and live differently, and I wouldn’t want to be any other way.  I love who I have become and the most valuable thing I’ve learned the last twenty one days is that I’m thankful I went through everything I did when I was a child.  I accept that I have FAP and I feel positive about it because I embrace all the amazing lessons it has taught me and I am blessed to have received the gifts it has given me.  In spite of all the suffering and the pain FAP has caused me, the only impression it has left on my heart and my soul are its numerous, priceless lessons of strength and perseverance.  And maybe that is what a real warrior is.