Reflections

Throughout the years, I have struggled with confidence and self love. I developed quickly as a young girl and became very insecure about my breasts and my body. My mind distorted the way I looked at myself, fixating on its flaws and feeling the constant need to live up to an expectation that didn’t exist. 

Over this past year though, I’ve gained respect for my body. I had surgery to remove part of my breast and watched my hair fall out. I got stripped down to a raw state both physically and emotionally and felt vulnerable. And that’s when I finally began accepting myself for who I was. The scars on my chest…those are my battle wounds. The hair I no longer had on my head…bald IS beautiful. Those curves on my body…embrace them!

I began looking at my body as a symbol of strength. My workouts were no longer measured in success by the number looking back at me on the scale but by the energy and strength I felt afterwards. The food I began putting in my body was to nourish and fuel it, not to starve it. My body was my vessel and I was going to use it to fight this thing.

While I have finally come to a place of acceptance, there is no denying that I’m scared of what lies ahead tomorrow. To face the loss of something that has always been a part of me and to see my body change. I’ve spent these last few days looking at myself in the mirror and silently mourning the skin I was once uncomfortable in.

But then I focus on the future. To hopefully hear those words one day that I am cancer free. To live my life freely and to be unapologetically me.

Reconstruction zone ahead

Feel it on the First! Early detection is key!

Despite going through surgery and treatments over the last 10 months, I have struggled with the uncertainty that I am “cancer free” moreso after the news from my oncologist in December. He had another pathologist look at my case and discovered there were a few microsatellites, or tumour cells, around the primary tumor removed 10 months ago. One of these cancerous cells had been cut in half during the surgery leaving the other half remaining in the breast. My oncologist assured me that the chemo and radiation should have destroyed them; however, he recommended a mastectomy to remove the entire breast tissue as a precautionary measure. I had already considered having a prophylactic (preventative) mastectomy but it now felt more real and also very unnerving that there were potentially cancerous cells still lingering in the shadows.

I followed up with my surgeon soon afterwards in the hopes of setting up a date to clear myself of any remaining cancer. Because I had just finished radiation, I was advised that my breast tissue wasn’t fully healed leaving me at higher risk of complications from surgery, including infection. The original lumpectomy site had taken almost 4 months to heal after becoming infected so that was the last thing we wanted to happen again. When he said he wanted to wait at least 6 months though, it made me panic at first. “How I can wait 6 months? What if something is growing inside me?!” He assured me that any residual cancer cells had been destroyed by the treatments and that the benefits of waiting greatly outweighed the risks. One of the benefits being that I would get immediate reconstruction done at the same time as the mastectomy.

Two weeks later, I sat down with the plastic surgeon who would be reconstructing my breasts to discuss my options. There are three options available here for breast reconstruction: implants, DIEP flap, and Latissimus Dorsi flap. I assumed I was getting implants since I thought it was the standard and hadn’t heard of the other 2 procedures. He told me however that there are too many risks and complications with using implants after radiation so that was quickly scratched off the list. We moved onto discussing the second option, DIEP flap, which involves removing the blood vessels as well as the skin and fat connected to them from the lower abdomen and transferring it to the chest to reconstruct a breast. The problem though was the lack of fat in my stomach area due to my petite size. Losing almost 15 pounds since going through treatment hadn’t helped either and I was just slowly gaining my weight back.

That left me with the last and only option, Latissimus Dorsi flap. This procedure involves making two horizontal incisions along either side of my back around the bra line and removing an oval flap of skin, fat, muscle, and blood vessels to reconstruct the breast. Expanders will then be placed in and pumped up with saline every 2 weeks to help stretch the skin until they reach a comfortable size. The surgery, scheduled for June 15, will take between 4 to 6 hours and I will be hospitalized for at least 3 days, with healing time taking anywhere between 8 to 12 weeks. I will have 4 incisions in total, 2 on my chest and 2 on my back, as well as drainage tubes to release any built-up fluids. In 6 months, the expanders will be replaced with a tear drop implant which will be a less invasive procedure with a shorter healing time.

Although I am excited to finally get this last part of my treatment done, I also wonder how I will fare through the process. I remember the day I took off my bandages from the lumpectomy and felt panicked thinking that I had lost half my boob. My breast was noticeably smaller, then swelled shortly after due to infection, then deflated from losing weight during chemo, and then began filling in slightly once I gained some of my weight back. I gradually learned to accept my body and began feeling more confident in myself than before. But as months went by and it healed from surgery and radiation, my breast was left full of thick hardened scar tissue making it difficult to sleep or put pressure on. Coupled with the lack of feeling and sensation, my breast has begun to feel alien to me, like it is no longer a part of my body anymore. I cringe when my doctors examine it and shy away when my husband goes to touch me. I can only imagine the grief and loss I will feel when I have both of my breasts removed and the time it will take to heal both on the inside and out. Physical scars may heal but it’s the emotional scars that can run deep and entangle us in a web of mental anguish and pain.

In the end, I must remind myself that the ultimate goal is to be healthy and to get rid of this stupid cancer once and for all. I am hopeful that the doctors won’t find any more cancerous cells or tumours in my breasts, and if they do, that they will remove it all successfully. But what I long for very much is that feeling of relief where I can finally say that I am cancer free. I want to wake up from surgery and say this is it. To feel that big weight lifted off my shoulders and to say I am finally done. This rollercoaster ride is far from over but I am determined to get through this next big hump, to move on with my life, and to start embracing my new normal.

Waking Up is Hard to Do

From the moment I wake up in the morning, my mind is already running a million miles a minute thinking about all the little aches and pains all over my body. Anxiety, fear and worry build up inside myself before I’ve even opened my eyes. Was that pain there yesterday? Is this something new? Has the treatment worked? I’ve exhausted myself mentally before I’ve even gotten out of bed. The fear of recurrence is a nasty beast. It becomes a disease in itself and consumes my thoughts throughout much of my day. Even though the chemo and radiation treatments were both draining on me, it felt like a bit of a safety blanket. But once that all stopped, I didn’t have that protection around me anymore and I felt more vulnerable.

As I prepare myself to start my day, I struggle to find the energy to get out of bed. There is being tired and there is fatigue. It began to set in about a couple weeks after radiation as predicted and hit me like a ton of bricks. No amount of sleep could ever make me feel truly rested. My energy ebbs and flows and I find myself sitting down to rest for a couple minutes which quickly turns into hours. And then as my head hits the pillow at the end of the day where I should be counting sheep and ready for a good night’s sleep, the viscous cycle continues all over again.

Through all of this, I’ve wanted to educate myself as much as possible to battle this cancer head on and win the fight. But in that, I have also had to face the realities of this disease. Breast cancer research has come a long way over the years and women’s chances of survival have increased; however, we are seeing higher incidents of it, including in young women. The research focuses on 5 and 10-year survival rates which are promising and give some hope but then they begin to steadily decline and that’s the part that scares me given my age. It becomes not so much a matter of if I’ll have a recurrence, but when. I still want to travel, make new memories, and maybe even start a family one day. It’s difficult to find a middle ground between being in denial of this reality and accepting it.

I’m still learning how to balance my life and fight with my inner demons. It feels like a struggle everyday. I try to eat healthy, but I’m also learning not to beat myself up when I want a treat once in awhile. I try to exercise to build up my physical strength again, but I also have to listen to my body when it needs to rest. I want to research as much as I can about this disease, but I also don’t want to overwhelm myself with information and think about every worst-case scenario. Going through treatment was one of the most difficult things I’ve had to face, but the fight doesn’t end there. It continues on now in different ways including living with the fear of recurrence and the unknown. We never know how long we may have on this earth, but it sure became a lot more real to me once I felt like my life was being gambled with.

Radiation

One thing I’ve learned through treatment is to just go with the flow. Nothing remains the same. Ever. I was originally supposed to have surgery to remove more lymph nodes once I was finished chemo. Upon meeting with my surgeon however, the plan changed to focus on my primary cancer treatment first – chemo and radiation – and then discuss surgery afterwards. I had anticipated having a few weeks off after chemo and was dreaming of a week-long vacation somewhere warm, but alas things change and plans are never set in stone. The cancer agency called me a few days after finishing my last treatment to set up an appointment with the radiation oncologist the following week and let me know that I would be starting radiation within 3 weeks. I wasn’t expecting to start so quickly but was glad that things kept moving along to get rid of this beast.

When I first spoke with the radiation oncologist in the summer, she advised me that I would be given 20 treatments of radiation to the breast and lymph nodes to kill any remaining cancer cells. Things had changed though as I began to ponder the benefits of doing preventative surgery. Although studies have found that a lumpectomy vs mastectomy have the same overall survival rates, there was an increased risk of recurrence by only doing a lumpectomy. Even though I will be tested often and a recurrence of breast cancer would likely be found in the early stages, the last thing I wanted was to go through this all over again. The type of breast cancer I have too tends to be multi-focal meaning that there can be multiple tumors within the breast and has a tendency to spread to the other breast as well. Since the possibility of mastectomy was now on the table, the new plan would be to lower the dose of radiation and extend the amount of treatments to 28 to preserve the tissue as best as possible. The tissue would be easier to work with and have less complications/side effects by giving the radiation in lower doses.

Two weeks before beginning radiation, I had a planning CT scan done to differentiate between normal and cancerous tissue areas and determine the amount and location of radiation to be given. The radiation techs placed a clear plastic type board over me on which they drew an outline of my breast and the lumpectomy incision area. Then, they put three felt marks on the area around my breast as coordinates to align the lasers and conducted the scan. Once finished, the marks were permanently tattooed on me so that they didn’t wash off as they would be used as coordinates for each of my radiation treatments. I can say that I’ve officially got my first tattoos now!

The tricky part was trying to figure out how I would attend my appointments as radiation is only done in Victoria at the cancer agency, about an hour and a half from my house. I could either stay at the cancer lodge for a fee of $53 per night which includes shared accommodations and 3 meals a day or I could drive down every day with the cancer van which is free of charge and run by the Freemasons society with numerous volunteer drivers. I opted to drive down with the cancer van since it would start adding up with the cost of accommodations. One of my sister’s friends we grew up with also graciously offered to let me stay at her place which I took advantage of a few times to break up the driving (thanks Candace and Brian!).

Day 1 of radiation

On my first day of treatment, I was shown the routine that would take me through the next 28 treatments. I grabbed a gown which I kept in my own cubby to be reused each time. I was led into the radiation area and was laid down on the radiation machine and the techs shifted my body ever so slightly to align my tattoos with the lasers. Once aligned with the coordinates, the techs left the room and the machine began to buzz and move around me. The treatment itself only took about 5 minutes and I didn’t feel anything during that time. I spoke with a nurse afterwards who outlined the side effects of radiation over time. These included fatigue and skin changes to the radiated area. It was important for me to hydrate my skin as much as possible to avoid a skin reaction such as a redness or itchiness. Some people can get what looks like a sunburn over time which, depending on how bad it is, can blister. 

Over the course of treatment, I got into the routine of driving down to Victoria and back everyday, coming home and going out for a walk with my dog. She’s such a good motivator for me to continue exercising throughout all of this. Most days there’s nothing more I’d like to do than to come home and relax but I know I need to keep moving to offset the side effects and to stay strong. It’s good therapy for me as well getting outside and enjoying the fresh air and appreciating the beauty around me. I had a check in with the radiation oncologist two weeks into treatment to see how things were going and if I had any questions. Other than a few pains in my breast and rosiness of the skin, I was responding well to treatment.

One of the great things about being at the cancer agency is the people. They make this whole process so much easier and it doesn’t feel like you’re in a hospital or typical health care setting. There are many volunteers throughout the building offering tea or coffee, showing you where to go or just being a friendly face to chat with every day. And the staff are so friendly and always smiling and making you feel comfortable in an otherwise uncomfortable stressful situation. Not only are the people great, but I was pleasantly surprised one day when a couple therapy dogs came in with their owners to work their own magic. I am a huge animal lover so having these dogs around made me so happy and excited for the next time I would get to see them.

After completing 25 out of 28 treatments, I had a check in with the radiation oncologist once again. My skin was now getting redder in spots and it ached more at times but the low doses of radiation were sitting fairly well with me. The lymph nodes had their max dose of radiation at 25 treatments so my breast would be the only thing radiated for the remaining 3 treatments. This meant an even quicker radiation session now only taking about 3 minutes. It’s crazy to think of driving over 3 hours everyday for a quick 3-5 minute appointment.

As I travel down for my last appointment today, I feel grateful for many things. Being able to live in a country where we are provided exceptional care and treatment for cancer. Building relationships with new people I met on my drive down or at the cancer agency. And also forming closer bonds to those I’ve known over the years and got the opportunity to spend more time with recently. I feel so accomplished to reach another milestone in my treatment plan and look forward to getting one step closer to beating this.

All finished 28 radiation treatments!

Bone pain, hot flashes, fatigue...oh my!

For the second half of my treatment, I was switching over to a chemo drug called Paclitaxel which was given intravenously over the course of 4.5 hours. Some of the more common side effects included bone pain, muscle pain, neuropathy (tingling of the fingers and toes), and fatigue but no nausea! I was one happy girl to hear that after dealing with the ill effects of the “Red Devil” treatment. The drug can cause some people to have an allergic reaction so I was given Benadryl prior to treatment to help prevent a severe reaction, if any. A few minutes after being given the Benadryl, it hit me like a ton of bricks. I’m not usually one to nap during the day but I couldn’t keep my eyes open for the life of me and dozed off for a couple hours. 

I didn’t know what to expect or how I would feel after switching over to the new drug but surprisingly I felt pretty good once I got home and somewhat “normal”. My head was a bit foggy and I was tired but other than that I had a good appetite with no signs of nausea. A couple days later though, I noticed that I was getting a few aches and pains in my legs and back so I figured it must be the bone pain setting in. It didn’t seem that bad until I went to bed that night. My legs and back began to throb and seemed to get progressively worse as the night went on. My GPO had told me to take a Tylenol for pain relief and something stronger if it didn’t help. I hate taking pills but I finally caved and took a Tylenol after dealing with non-stop pain for four hours. It seemed to take a little bit of the edge off, but the pain was still there and kept me awake throughout the night.

Another side effect I experienced once I switched to Paclitaxel was the hot flashes. Chemo for breast cancer typically throws most premenopausal women into a chemically induced menopausal state as the ovaries are temporarily shut down resulting in a lack of estrogen production. I had noticed when I first started chemo that my head was a bit hot at times, but now I would wake up in the middle of the night feeling like my entire body was boiling from the inside out. Even though I tried everything to keep cool, from sleeping with the fan or putting a cold towel on my head, nothing seemed to cool me down. I knew I just had to let the hot flashes run their course until I could find relief. This could take anywhere from a few seconds to a few minutes each time. 

Over the course of the remaining three treatment cycles, the bone pain and hot flashes got progressively worse. The oncologist had said the side effects of chemo are cumulative which I was beginning to understand. I could feel my bones ache slightly during the day with the occasional cringing pain here and there. But once I laid down at night, the bone pain thrived. I could feel it coming on within seconds of hitting the bed and my legs and back would ache deep down to the bone. The hot flashes continued and became more frequent throughout the nights as well leaving me with little to no rest. I had to start taking a sleeping pill once in awhile so my body could get the rest and recharge it needed to fight.

My veins also began playing a game of hide and seek for the remaining treatment cycles. I was

always told before that my veins were a nurse's dream. Nice and plump and easy to find. But what I didn’t know, was that over the course of chemo, the veins started to get smart and would hide after being poked so much. Since I had the lymph nodes taken out on my right affected side, I had to get the IV put into my left arm each time. It was taking the nurses 2 to 3 tries now to get the IV in as the veins kept rolling and hiding. My arm felt mutilated after being poked so many times and I was left in tears hoping that next time would be easier.

Going into the last day of treatment, I felt like I was on cloud nine. It seemed like this day would never come but here I was…I finally made it through chemo. As I was finishing up the last of my treatment, one of the other patients excitedly told me that I would get to ring the bell which signifies the end of the chemotherapy journey. The nurse handed the bell to me and I turned to face the other fighters and rang it with cheers and applauds in response. I was overcome with emotion and tears of happiness filled my eyes. It seems strange to think of celebrating after being poisoned with highly toxic drugs but that’s also exactly why I was celebrating. I made it through an incredibly trying 4 months both mentally and physically. I came out a stronger and better person. 

One of the nurses presented a pin to me before I left which says, “You never know how strong you are until being strong is the only choice you have.” This rang so true for me and I’m sure for many others going through this journey as well. I could’ve let myself crumble to a million pieces but I chose instead to take control and not let this disease define me. Yes, there are days when I feel great and that I’m beating this thing head on but then there are other days when it pushes my limits and I must remind myself that tomorrow is a new day. For me though, there is only one choice in the end...be strong and fight like a girl.

Dancing with the Devil

Going into the second round of chemo, my GPO advised me that I would be getting a double dose of anti-nausea medication moving forward to help alleviate the nausea that I experienced through the first treatment. This seemed to help a lot as I was able to eat when I got home and hold a conversation with my husband unlike two weeks prior. The only drawback though was that the medication in higher doses had side effects such as constipation and insomnia, both of which I experienced. I was so tired after chemo and felt like I could sleep all day but once I hit the pillow, I just laid there wide awake for hours. Not even a sleeping pill could help as my body was so flooded with all of the different drugs in my system.

After the second round of treatment, I noticed myself starting to associate certain words and items with chemo. Two things in particular were popsicles and ice. I had to suck on either a popsicle or ice chips while receiving the “red devil” treatment to avoid getting mouth sores (thankfully I only got one mild mouth sore in my throat the entire time which went away quickly with a prescribed mouthwash). Once I went through the third round of chemo, I couldn’t even think, look, or talk about popsicles and ice without gagging. My mind was playing games with me and I couldn’t get it out of my head. It was driving me insane. I decided I needed to do something about it because I still had more treatments coming up and I didn’t know how was I going to get through them like this.

Through my work, there’s an Employee and Family Assistance program which offers short-term counselling services for free. I contacted the program and got set up with a counsellor the following week to try and work through some of the anxiety I was experiencing around chemo. The counsellor emphasized just focusing on the present moment and to associate chemo with something positive. My mind has always been one to wander and think about a million things at once so it was hard to slow it down and focus on the present. I had to train myself to stop thinking so far ahead to the next treatment (and those darn popsicles). I also started reminding myself again that the chemo was doing good for my body and killing all of the bad cancer cells. This was a little easier said than done when I felt the side effects cumulate after each treatment.

As the treatments went on, my energy level became worse and I had this constant off feeling. It was like a touch of nausea coupled with fatigue. The oncologist said that exercise could help lessen the side effects so I pushed myself to get out for walks almost everyday, even if it was just around the block. At first, this seemed to help and I felt better when I was moving around more than when I was resting. The difficult part was getting the energy to push myself out the door but I reminded myself every time of the reward of feeling better afterwards. By the time my fourth treatment was finished though, it didn’t matter whether I was resting or moving around…nothing could shake off how I was feeling. It just lingered and only time seemed to make it fade away.

One thing that seemed to thrive though during my treatments was my appetite. I could not eat enough in a day and was eating twice as much as I normally would. Yet, even though I ate so much, I never felt full and couldn’t keep the weight on. It was like a competition with the chemo to see how much I could eat and how much weight I could gain back before the next round. But I always seemed to fall a bit short. I wasn’t losing a lot of weight but enough that I knew I needed to keep eating so that I didn’t eventually become underweight and unhealthy. My GPO later explained to me that the chemo was killing off all of the rapidly diving cells in my body, including the cells in my digestive tract. As a result, my body didn’t have the ability to uptake the nutrients I was putting in my body like it normally would and instead was going straight through me.

By the time I went into my last treatment of the “red devil”, I was worn down both physically and emotionally. At the beginning of chemo, I was usually able to recover enough to start getting out and about after a week or so of treatment. The last round though left me with this slight feeling of nausea and fatigue for the entire two weeks until my next treatment. It was starting to drag me down emotionally not being able to go out and enjoy things on any given day without worrying about how I was feeling. I couldn’t go to the store alone without getting anxiety and feeling overwhelmed. It was difficult to even drive because I felt like I was in a constant haze. The days seemed long because I didn’t have the energy to do anything and I looked forward to my husband coming home or having visitors over to get my mind off things. I just kept telling myself that this would all be over soon.

After four challenging chemo treatments, I would now be switching over to a different chemo drug called Paclitaxel for the last half of my treatment which had less harsh side effects. No more nausea and no more taking pills all the time. I couldn’t wait to move on and kick the red devil to the curb.

Bye bye red devil!

No More Bad Hair Days

Losing my hair was an inevitable part of my treatment. It was a horrible feeling but I knew it was something I would eventually have to face. I wanted to buy a wig before my hair started falling out so that I didn’t feel self conscious about going out bald and having people look at me like I was “sick”. I found out I had coverage through my extended health benefits plan to purchase a wig so I went out shopping to find something that I would be comfortable wearing. There are so many wigs to choose from nowadays depending on the style, colour, length, and thickness and whether you want real or synthetic hair. The good thing about a real hair wig is that it can be styled just like normal hair would but they can also be very expensive. The synthetic wigs are cheaper and generally are not heat proof; however, they have come a long way and now offer some heat protective ones. Going in I thought I would try a different hairstyle while I had the opportunity, but once I started trying a few on, I realized I didn’t feel comfortable going too outside the box because it would be so obvious that it wasn’t my own hair. The wig I decided on was a bit thicker and lighter in colour than my own hair but about the same length.

My hair had been holding strong through the first cycle of chemo, but going into the second round I noticed I was shedding a bit more than usual. The following day after chemo #2, I went to brush my hair and a lot of it was now starting to come out in my brush. Not just 5 or 6 strands like usual, but 20-30 strands. I knew this day would come but it was hard to know when to make the decision to get rid of it. Do I wait and let more fall out or will that just be more devastating? I looked on some forums online to see what others had done but it all came down to personal choice and what I was most comfortable with. Some felt better cutting their hair short first, while others took the plunge and buzzed it off all at once. I decided I would wait until the next day to see if the hair loss was getting any worse.

I continued to shed the next day and was worried that if I left it too long, I may wake up the next day with a big bald patch on my head. I was still struggling with making a decision on when to finally shave it so I decided to take a shower and see how strong my hair was holding up afterwards. When I took one stroke of the brush through my hair, it came back full. I knew at that point it was time. The owner of the shop where I purchased my wig had offered to shave my head when the time came so I gave her a call. We arranged for me to come in later around closing time so that we could have some privacy and I brought my friend with me for support. I didn’t know how I was going to react through it all, but I was so nervous leading up to going in.

My hair was put into a bunch of little pig tails to cut off first as it was easier than trying to get the buzzer through the whole thing at once. It felt better doing it that way too as I got to see what my hair looked like short before going all the way which wasn't as shocking and gave me an idea of what it would look like growing back. Once the pigtails were gone, it was time to shave the rest off. I don’t know that I was ever “ready” to shave my head but I knew it was something that I needed to face eventually. I managed to hold it together and at the end was surprised how empowered I felt. It was freeing in a way to not have any hair. I had no idea what I was going to look like without any hair but it wasn’t as bad as I imagined. Looking back, I’m so glad that I made the personal choice to get my head shaved rather than the chemo taking that choice away. I think I would have been more devastated had I waited and let my hair fall away in pieces in front of me.

I left the store that evening with my wig on and went back home to show my husband. He couldn’t bring himself to watch me get my head shaved as this whole diagnosis had been really hard on him so far. When I did the big reveal later on and took off my wig, he was incredibly supportive and told me how beautiful I was. We had a bit of a laugh too because we now looked like twins with matching bald heads. No hair products needed in this house! The next day, I went for lunch with a friend and wore my wig for the first time out in public. It felt a bit awkward and I struggled with whether to wear one or not. Part of me wanted to just rip the wig off and say this is me...take it or leave it! But I wasn’t at that point yet where I felt comfortable enough to do so. When I went for lunch with my sister the following day though, I decided spur of the moment that I didn't need to hide behind the wig. It was a big step for me and to be honest, felt really uncomfortable at first, but once I got out I found myself gaining more confidence. I was worried that people would stare but they didn’t really bat much of an eye at it. That is until I did the full monty and shaved my head completely bald a couple weeks later….

The little hairs left on my head had been falling out and my pillowcase and everything my head touched was covered in them. The lady who shaved my head had recommended that I go to a barber shop and get a straight razor cut once the time had come. I had never imagined getting a straight razor cut before and the barber had never shaved a woman's head before so it was an experience for both of us. It was pretty cool to get my head pampered in a way with the hot towels and everything. It's a little nerve wracking having a straight razor blade run across your head but he did a fantastic job and got rid of every last little hair. My head looked so white though once he was done as it had never seen the light of day all these years. When I went to pick up my prescriptions later at the pharmacy, I started noticing all the stares. It’s one thing to shave your head, but another to have absolutely nothing there anymore and even more so as a woman. My confidence wavered and it took some time to regain it back, but once I did, I owned it. Besides, I was still me. My hair was a part of my style, my personality, but I'm still the same person no matter what. Just stronger and more confident than I've ever been.

My hair doesn't define me. My strength does.