Breast Cancer Diaries: Epilogue

This series started with my grandmother, a woman who was full of life. And it ends with an illustration by cinematographer and illustrator Ankur Ahuja of a dancer twirling around with outstretched arms enraptured by the feeling of her body.

I love this image.

It’s the image I wish for us all.

Free and flowing, in whatever form we take. This dancer has no shame in her scars. She isn’t hiding them. She’s not covering them up. She shows them. And by doing so, she is in her truest power.

This month-long series started out as an idea to not only bring awareness to breast cancer, but to tell stories beyond the pink ribbon—the rich, deep, emotional, raw stories behind breast cancer. The ones that hopefully stick with you.

Stories like the opera singer who found her voice. The daughter who was finally able to mourn the loss of her mother by healing herself. The sex-positive writer who was able to find some peace with her body. The doctor who sailed across the sea and returned home to save lives. The woman who faced death and told it, Not today. I have more living to do.

All of these stories, along with tales from you about finding the humor in the surreal and fighting like warriors, have turned these diary entries into a lesson I’ll never forget.

There is so much life out there, even in our darkest moments.

Let’s continue finding and sharing it.

Many thanks to all who made this series possible: Dave Cooper, Kathy Cornwell, Cassie Boorn, all the women who shared their stories, and you for your likes, shares, and support. You definitely had a role in this too.

This site is a labor of love. If you’d like to see this type of storytelling continue, please consider making a donation. 100% of your money will go to running this site including hosting, paying writers and artists, and all the other fees involved in creating and maintaining an online space.

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Thank you.

wellnessJen Cooper