I had to look. It was 3 days after my breast cancer surgery and it was time to take off the layers and layers of bandages. I told my husband not to gasp. I knew that I would have to love my body before surgery as well as after surgery. The bandages came off, and it was OK. I cried, but I kept looking at those scars over and over again; and I began to love them. My husband too. We quickly became so proud of those scars. They were my journey written on my skin. Those scars mean I found the lump now not five years from now. They mean my chances are good, and maybe even great.
I was so proud, I can even say that I love those scars. But not everyone feels that way. It broke my heart to hear other women talk about not wanting…
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