4 Ways I Grew Back My Sense of Self After Breast Cancer

How I redefined my identity when I'd lost sight of who I was

Nov 01, 2024

Welcome to Am I Cured Yet? I’m so happy you’re here—my sincere thanks for hanging out in my little corner of the internet.

Today, I’m writing about some of the ways I grew back my sense of self after my breast cancer diagnosis. This post is the final part of my series on ‘regrowth.’

Venice Beach, 2019. Photo by Lisa Haagen.

If I could pick one word to describe the experience of being a cancer survivor, it would be ‘regrowth.’

This month, I’ve been writing about what ‘regrowth’ means to me, from how it felt to watch my hair grow back to completing hormone suppression treatment and witnessing the slow return of my hormones.

Cancer affected my identity, self-esteem and mental health. Almost six years out from diagnosis and recently finished with maintenance treatment, I’m still impacted by my experience. Sometimes, I wonder if the shockwaves of cancer will reverberate through my life forever.

Here are the things that helped—and continue to help me—in the wake of cancer.

Writing

Not long after my diagnosis, I turned to blogging as a way to keep friends and family informed about my treatment. It was an entirely practical decision, yet I found myself driven to write whenever I felt angry, overwhelmed or relieved.

I didn’t know it at the time, but writing was helping me process my trauma. I’d write down my most upsetting memories over and over until they began to lose their power. Slowly, I realised I was writing scenes: receiving the initial phone call from my doctor, getting a port placed under the skin of my chest, and looking in the mirror for the first time after losing my breasts.

I didn’t admit it to anyone for a long time, but I was writing a book. Several years and many redrafts later, I now have a fully realised manuscript on my hands. I don’t think I’ve ever been prouder of myself.

Finding and making community

At the time of my diagnosis in 2018, my hospital didn’t have a young adult cancer support program. I felt isolated and misunderstood. My childhood best friend, Emily, was a massive support to me, having been diagnosed with breast cancer herself at the beginning of the same year. She’d give me advice about treatment and surgery, and we’d commiserate about consistently being the youngest people in the oncology centre.

Tragically, Emily’s cancer metastasised, and she died a few days after her thirtieth birthday.

For a long time, grief consumed me. One of the only things that kept me going was the idea that I might support other young women like Emily had supported me. And so, once I was well enough, I set up a local support group for young people with breast cancer.

Three years later, I’m still organising monthly hangouts for my peers, and it’s been one of the most rewarding experiences of my life. I’ve been lucky enough to create my own community and made many wonderful new friends in the process.

I’ve come to believe that cancer has a knack for picking on the coolest and kindest people.

Getting a dog

Once the shock of my diagnosis had subsided, I asked my husband for two things:

Could we finally take our long-postponed honeymoon?
And could we please get a dog?

We went on our honeymoon after I finished chemo and before my surgery—a sort of goodbye tour for my boobs—but getting the dog took a little longer. At first, I was too sick even to consider it, and later, we needed to find a rental apartment that allowed pets.

When we eventually took home our boy Flynn, my priorities shifted entirely. Before we got him, I was stuck in my depression and PTSD. Having something else to focus on gave me a new sense of direction. He was also so cute that I think my brain got rewired for the better. I submit the following as evidence:

Taking on new challenges and trying new hobbies

At my lowest point after cancer, I was completely unmotivated. I felt so hopeless about my future that I didn’t dare try anything new.

Slowly, and with the support of people who loved me, I let my interests lead me where I wanted, laying down a tentative path ahead.

I tried taking gig photos for my friend’s band. (I sucked.)
I tried indoor bouldering. (I sucked, but it was fun.)
I took up road cycling and rode 100 miles for charity. (I sucked, but I was proud of myself.)
I tried writing a blog and, later, a couple of books. (I maybe didn’t suck?)

Even when I wasn’t good at something, I had a lot of fun.

And the important thing was I was growing again, finding things to define me outside of cancer.

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I’ll be back next week. In the meantime, thanks for reading! Take care of yourself :)

Emma