A PORTRAIT OF HOPE

For weeks I’ve delayed finishing this blog for fear I couldn’t write it in a way that honors Tiffany’s experience and does not make it about my own. But I’ve accepted that I will see in her what I see in myself, because I am human and this is what humans do. Truly, as the saying goes, “we do not see things as they are, we see things as we are.” Her story is hers to tell, but I am thankful she allowed me to share a few hours of it with you. My hope is that, whether you’ve faced cancer or not, you too are inspired by the hope that can be found when we simply accept (love) ourselves.

It’s easy to see myself in her story because we were both diagnosed with breast cancer within a couple weeks of each other. We met in college, hadn’t talked to each other in years, but became very close very quickly when we started talking honestly about our life changing experience this summer.

When I had my bilateral mastectomy on August 1, I told her all about my experience. In some ways she gave it purpose because I was able to help prepare someone for a surgery I had NO time to mentally prepare myself for. I knew what I had to do and why I had to do it, but when they came to wheel me into surgery on the morning of August 1 I started shaking, crying, and saying “no!!” I remember telling Tiffany, if you freak out like I did, the nurse will give you some really good shit in your IV. We laughed. Then I cried again.

Breast cancer treatment is different for every person. For instance, she chose to do reconstruction, and I did not. She is now doing chemo and then radiation, but I did not. She will eventually do hormone therapy (which I started two months ago). It’s so important that we share our stories, because no matter what our treatment looks like we are empowered by understanding our options.

Tiffany and I have kept in touch throughout her journey. She actually inquired about doing a photoshoot with me last year, but “life” got in the way (as it does). So when I found out earlier this fall that I didn’t have to do chemo and she did, I gave her a spot on my calendar as soon as I went back to work and said it’s time to do your photoshoot. She came from Wichita and since the time had come for her head to be shaved, she decided to have her husband do it during the shoot.

What a beautiful, powerful moment that was.

And after it was shaved we realized her last outfit was the glamorous gown she had picked out during her consultation. How perfect that she was meant to wear it, glowing with strength, minutes after her head was shaved. It felt like a sacred ceremony, and now it’s documented forever.

These portraits represent so much… beauty, life, pain, and love. They say: she is worthy of being photographed whether she is sick or healthy, with hair or without, grieving or rejoicing. These portraits are ACCEPTANCE of what IS. And that is love. Sure, her husband loves and accepts her no matter what but she took a big step to do that for herself that day in the studio and I will cherish that memory forever.

It’s easy to want to see a cancer story arc as our typical hero’s journey: you’re faced with hardship, you overcome it, and then you’re all good! But it isn’t like that. There are ups and downs and nuances. There’s grief and anger and clarity. There are one million shades between the colors “bad” and “good” and every day is different. And we are capable of feeling multiple things at once.

Thank you Tiffany for sharing your story with me and many others, and for being open to me amplifying it while you continue to fight this battle.

Thank you for reading, for checking in, and for being open to finding hope in this life even when it feels like it’s gone.

I’m so glad it’s never gone.

Sincerely,
Mitzi