Brave Heart, Brave Soul. She who is brave is free.

“Behind every scar there is an untold story of survival.” ~anonymous My scars, each one of them though they may be old, purple, fading and spread out are still very present across my chest. I have scars most people could not imagine living with, more or less living through what caused them. I have been cut open and stitched up in ways unimaginable, put back together again and sent on my merry way. My scars are a living testament, a reminder I have faced death, battled the Beast and lived to tell the tale. I am not ashamed of my scars, no, they tell my story. I wake up each and every morning and face the mirror without as much as sigh. I see the mark of the Beast on my body. I am vividly aware of her handiwork, the art of breast cancer’s imprint and the impact on my life. I feel the phantom pains, the crazy reminders of a breast that once was but no longer exists. In those moments each and every morning staring into the looking glass I thank my Father for His unyielding s...

Taking a look back, it was ten years ago I crossed the finish line during our first breast cancer walk. I was fighting the beast at the age of 33. Hand in hand, arms up with my family and friends we stood united. Johnny was on my left and my sister Morgen was on my right when we stepped over that line together.  To say it was a surreal moment is an understatement. But I learned something  as we crossed the victory line, something I carry with me till this very day.  Michael Douglas says it best, “Cancer didn’t bring me to my knees, it brought me to my feet.” So let me introduce myself again. I’m a fighter, I’m a survivor and I’m the proud owner of one real breast, a uniboob if you like and yes, one fake boob. I certainly found my sense of humor early on in this battle. My sister Morgen wouldn’t have allowed me to be any other way quite honestly. Morgen she’s a fighter herself, a fellow spoonie battling lupus. She looked me right in the eyes and I knew we woul...