Coping with grief can be a complicated struggle for young adults with breast cancer. What contributes to grief goes beyond the cancer diagnosis itself.
Why is long-term cancer survivorship so difficult? And how come nobody wants to talk about it? Maybe because it feels like living on an island somewhere between where the oceans of fear and gratefulness collide.
Chemobrain is a term often used to describe cognitive changes due to cancer treatment that significantly interfere with an individual’s quality of life. Summit speaker Natalie Kelly, PhD helps us understand more.
How are you supposed to feel after months of breast cancer treatment and surgery? Defeat may be the first feeling I had, but determination will get me through what “survivorship” looks like for me.
If you are a newly diagnosed survivor or metathriver, the holidays may be making you blue. Here are five things you can do to help you enjoy the season!
We change after we hear the diagnosis of cancer. Our friendships will too. Allow that process to happen or at least acknowledge it. Some of it will be painful. But it can also open up doors to new relationships we didn’t know could happen.
I was 28 years old with breast cancer. None of my friends could relate. I wanted to push my boyfriend away. But I realized the importance of letting people be there. And I am forever grateful to the ones who stay.
When Breast Cancer Awareness month comes to an end and all the pink ribbon merch disappears from the shelves, many people like myself still wear the reality of the disease.
Every breast cancer journey is different. You get to define and redefine your strength every step of the way. Be kind to yourself and be your kind of strong.
Following up on my live demo for all the beauties braving cancer, I’m sharing some golden rules to keep in mind when shopping for makeup and applying your new beauty products!
My boys were 9 and 2 at the time of my diagnosis. Thinking about the battle ahead scared me, but the thought of my children seeing me sick scared me even more. In their eyes, I was supermom.
Cancer cut to the quick when my hair started to fall out. But I was reminded that beauty is not just what I am, but who I am. I am not my hair.
I don’t know what it was about 28, but I had high expectations that THIS was going to be the year my life changed—and it did, but not in the way I imagined.
Having cancer is tough enough as it is. Having cancer while parenting is downright exhausting. What worked for me was having a “one day at a time” perspective and an “it takes a village” mentality.