My Dearest Breasts,
It has been 11 long years since that fateful day when cancer tore us apart. I was just 33—still reveling in my youth—when a mammogram detected an abnormality that changed the course of my life forever.
Oh, how I loved you, my breasts. You were full and womanly, perfectly shaped to fit my frame. I loved catching glimpses of you in the mirror, bare or peeking out from my favorite tank tops. You brought me pleasure and reminded me of my femininity.
Most of all, I loved nursing my babies with you. It was our special time as you nourished them, helped them grow big and strong. I felt such an incredible bond. My breasts were made to give life, and you did just that.
Then cancer came to steal you away. I fought hard, but a double mastectomy was the only way. I wept as I said goodbye, grieving the loss of my breasts I’d known for over three decades. The surgery left scars where you once were—angry, red scars that will never fully fade.
Losing you changed me. I was no longer the carefree, young woman with perky breasts who could wear any outfit. I had to carefully select tops and dresses to hide where you were missing. I cringed at the sight of my flat chest in the mirror. I avoided intimacy, feeling self-conscious and less feminine without you there.
Cancer had robbed me of my womanhood—or so I thought. But your absence taught me what true strength is. My body healed and adapted. Scars faded to be less noticeable. I learned to embrace my new normal, celebrating the life you had helped me create.
Though you are gone, I carry you in my heart. I cherish our years together when you nourished my babies and nourished my soul. Nothing can replace the comfort, vitality, and sensuality you gave me. You helped shape me into the mother, wife, and woman I am today.
Now, over a decade later, I have made peace with our parting. I do not dwell on what I lost, but I focus on what I gained—resilience, wisdom, purpose. My mission now is helping other women battling breast cancer, reminding them they are so much more than their breasts.
Cancer took you from me, but it did not take my spirit. I have found meaning by sharing my story, raising awareness, and providing support. My scars show the fight I endured—the battle I won. I am proud of these marks left behind.
You are gone but not forgotten, my dear breasts. I will always miss your softness, your fullness, the way you perfectly fit my frame. Nothing can ever replace you. But you live on through me and through the lives you helped create.
For the nourishment you provided, the connections we shared, and the lessons your loss taught me, I will always love you, my breasts. You helped shape the survivor I am today.
With enduring affection,