I’m 39 years old now, an age I once believed to be ancient. As a child, I thought my mother turning 40 was practically entering the elderly phase. Fast forward, and here I am, a wife, mother of four, and writer. Yet, despite my life’s responsibilities, I continue to share images of my chest online.
At 35, during my routine self-exam, I discovered a lump in my breast. I quickly reached out to my gynecologist and underwent an ultrasound and my first mammogram. With my dense breast tissue, the mammogram was particularly challenging, likened to finding a snowflake in a snowstorm. The ultrasound identified the lump, which seemed benign. I was advised to return for a repeat ultrasound in six months, but I couldn’t shake my anxiety and sought a second opinion from a breast surgeon. After her ultrasound, she recommended a biopsy, which led to a vacation with my family. Upon returning, I was shocked to learn that I had DCIS, a stage 0 breast cancer diagnosis.
My initial reaction was disbelief. Why did this happen to me? I was a busy mom with no family history of breast cancer, and my genetic tests were negative. I later realized that breast cancer is a common diagnosis, with one in eight women facing it in their lifetime.
I also battled fear. My generalized anxiety disorder made it challenging to process my diagnosis, and I avoided saying the word “cancer” for weeks. I weighed my options—bilateral mastectomy or lumpectomy with radiation—and ultimately chose the mastectomy after much thought and prayer.
I kept my surgery private, fearing judgment or negativity. However, after the operation, I felt a duty to encourage women to perform self-exams and schedule mammograms. I utilized pictures to raise awareness, as I found that sharing my journey resonated with others.
In 2020, there was a troubling rise in censorship of women’s bodies online. Posts from breast cancer survivors and fighters were often removed, deemed inappropriate under social media guidelines. The breast cancer community rallied, asserting that these images were not sexual but rather vital for awareness and early detection.
Despite the risks of sharing my chest online, I, along with many others, remain committed to posting. Our bare skin, our battle scars—they all serve to encourage women to prioritize their health. Some posts are humorous, others serious, but all aim to empower women to take charge of their health. A self-exam takes only minutes but could be life-saving.
Breast cancer knows no age, race, or lifestyle; it can strike at any moment. Therefore, I will continue to share my story, even if it makes some uncomfortable. After all, the discomfort of seeing a scarred body is nothing compared to the reality of breast cancer.
I am grateful for the chance to use my platform to inspire women to check themselves. I’ve received countless messages from women indicating that my posts motivated them to schedule mammograms or prompted their friends to do the same. Many shared their own experiences, reinforcing that my journey serves a greater purpose.
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