As we begin Breast Cancer Awareness Month, I find myself thinking back on my own experience twelve years ago. Breast cancer brought fear, uncertainty, treatments, physical changes, and emotions I had never felt before—but it never became the entirety of who I was. It didn’t own me. It shaped me. I have often said, “Chemo healed the cancer, but the cancer healed me,” because that is truly how I felt. It taught me gratitude, grace, strength, and how precious an ordinary day can be.
While I was going through chemotherapy and radiation, I did my best to incorporate breast cancer into my regular life instead of allowing it to become my whole life. I had a wig that I absolutely loved, and wearing it helped me feel like myself. I went to work, out to dinner, and to happy hours. I laughed, spent time with the people I loved, and continued living. That didn’t mean I was never frightened or emotional, and it certainly didn’t mean every day was easy. It meant that beneath the diagnosis, the treatments, and the wig, I was still me—and I was determined not to lose sight of that.
Every woman’s journey through breast cancer is different, and there is no single right way to be strong. But if you are going through it now, I hope you remember that cancer may become part of your story without becoming your entire story. My experience gave me the opportunity to mentor other women, share what helped me, and eventually include my breast cancer journal in my book, “Waking Up.”
Today, twelve years and counting cancer-free, I remain deeply grateful and blessed. Breast cancer didn’t own me. It shaped me. Chemo healed the cancer, but in so many unexpected ways, the cancer healed me.
Wishing you love and light,
~Anne Dennish~
working out at the gym, and had gone back to college to take creative writing courses. I was invited by my professor, a published author as well, to join his writer’s workshop. It was the best time of my life, yet also the darkest time knowing that there was a divorce to go through.
down as I neared the end to finish it, a friend offered me the use of her Malibu beach house. I took advantage of the offer and went out there in October of 2015, spending a week writing the last few stories of the book. I had no distractions while there, unless you count my view of the ocean, which was sitting at the bottom of the steps of the house. It was a dream come true to be on the water, watching the waves, listening to the sounds, and being able to walk the beach under a beautiful sunlit sky everyday. I miss that house so much, yet the memories of that time there remain. The last story I wrote for my book was written on the deck of that house and it’s called “Voice of the Ocean.” I finished my book, packed my bags, wrote my name in the sand of that Malibu beach and flew home.
