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I stood, confident in a hot pink halter top, as my favorite photographer snapped away.

portrait of a bald woman posing with her hands on her head and eyes closed while smiling

Daphne Youree

Our time together had just begun and I was already feeling both exhilarated and empowered.

The answer to both: “About 3 weeks.”

My focus on my head wasn’t unusual.Dr.

photo of a woman with a bald head leaping spread eagle into the air in front of a city skyline

Daphne Youree

The strength I activated in my mind and body.

The grace I found in accepting things as they were.

The love I felt from others, and the beauty I found in myself.

portrait of a woman with a bald head in a pink top riding a carousel horse

Daphne Youree

My bald head made the occasional cameo.

I had few pictures of me bald in everyday life.

Less than a week later, we embarked on our shoot.

portrait of a bald woman joyfully lifting her wig above her head in front of a city backdrop

Daphne Youree

While outside on a balcony, 30 floors above the city, I spontaneously lifted my wig.

Celebrating the beauty of my bald head in this way felt extraordinary.

When I look at the hundreds of photos from that day, all I see is my shine.

black and white nude portrait of a breast cancer survivor with mastectomy scars. the woman is smiling with her hands…

Sophie Elgort

The ones that cut across my breasts.

But that wasnt all.

My recurrence wasnt simply local, mycancer had also metastasizedto my hip.

portrait of a bald woman wearing a black top and sneakers posing on the top of a red railing on a bridge in front of a…

Daphne Youree

And yet, somehow, I felt ready to take my shirt off for the camera.

Disappointed but not undaunted, I sent a private message to the organizing photographer,Sophie Elgort.

Could she possibly accommodate one more?

portrait of a bald woman smiling into the camera with one hand on the handle of a yellow door

Daphne Youree

Seven hours later, I embraced complete freedom, uninhibited as I removed my clothes.

This body, now, deserved to be fully seen, celebrated, and photographed.

Over the course of my cancer journey, my perspective on scars shifted.

But when mine actually began to fade far faster than expected, I found myself hoping they remained visible.

Even without physical scars, cancer would have left an indelible imprint on my life.

I love when my scars, now faint, are visible, even if only to me.

I am in awe of my body, how much treatment she has survived and flourished through.

Although I am full of hope that one day that might change.

And for now, cancer is as much a part of me as anything else.

It has scarred me, scared me, shifted me and solidified me.