As my physical wounds heal, I find myself counting my scars, and tracing them with my fingers. But, rather than seeing mutilation, I see new life lines and possibilities in those scars.
Breast cancer literally and figuratively cut me down and built me up. It forced me to see the “real” directly in front of my eyes, not the things my mind made up for me to see.
Living your life with your outward appearance so entrenched in your personal identity can make for extreme emotional issues when cancer takes your hair from you.
My confidence went from zero to bad ass! I just could not stop looking at them and how much I felt like a whole woman again.
I share my story because I want others going through to feel seen. There is so much power in sharing your story; it not only helps you heal, but it empowers others to do the same.
We all have scars whether physical, mental, or emotional. These scars can make us or break us. It is our responsibility to find the beauty of life and survival in our scars to help us transform and grow.
No one prepares you for a broken vag when you’re 40 and diagnosed with breast cancer.
