The two words “breast cancer” on my medical check-up report in the spring of 2022 pierced my peaceful life like an icicle. Back then, I was at the prime of my career, used to being in full control and taking decisive action. But illness never waits for one to be ready. In the first month after diagnosis, I felt as if I had been suddenly thrown into the sea. What terrified me was not just death, but the complete shattering of my identity: as a woman, my body was no longer whole; as a professional, I had to bid farewell to the job I loved.

 

After the surgery, the mirror became the last thing I dared to face. The long scar and the empty left side of my chest reminded me every day of what I had lost, as if declaring a certain “incompleteness” of me as a woman. The person in the mirror was unfamiliar and fragile, filling me with an overwhelming sense of loathing. I smashed the mirror and drew all the curtains at home, desperate to hide from every reflective surface that could show me my image.

 

It was in the hospital that I met Amy, who later led me to Amy’s Women Empowerment. Though young, she exuded a warmth and conviction beyond her years. She told me her mother was also a breast cancer survivor, who had gone through the same pain a few years ago and had now come out of it, learning to reconcile with her own body. She gently said to me, “Take your time. There’s no need to rush.”

 

Conversations with her were like opening a window for me, who had been trapped in a mental dead end. I suddenly realized that my agony stemmed not from the physical imperfection, but from my own obsession with tying “physical traits” to “female worth.” I had stubbornly believed that without that part of my body, I was no longer worthy of being a “complete woman.”

 

Looking back now, this is the subtle influence society has on us. Women of my generation often find themselves defined by various expectations: we are expected to be good wives and mothers, and to be gentle and considerate. It took me a long time of deep reflection to gradually realize that none of these expectations defines the true meaning of life. I may have lost my left breast, but I am still myself: a complete and proud woman. The moment this thought dawned on me, I felt as if the knots in my heart had loosened. That sense of relief and freedom was unlike anything I had ever experienced before.

 

I understand some may hold different views on my thoughts, thinking that I am not adhering to the so-called “traditions.” But I still want to take this opportunity to tell all my sisters: we must distinguish between the essence of life and the expectations society imposes on us. No single part of our body can ever define our full worth. Even if we are missing something, we can still live a fulfilling life and remain our unique selves. Don’t let conventional perspectives limit the life that is meant to be lived freely and fully.

 

At Amy’s Women Empowerment, I have met countless warm-hearted companions. I am grateful for all the mutual support and strength we have given each other along the way, and for all the volunteers who stood by me during my darkest days. Now, I am honored to be one of those volunteers. To all sisters who are still struggling: welcome to join our big family. Let us find ourselves again in this warmth and live the life we truly desire.