A personal archive of the moments in between. This journal documents my experience with cancer through photographs, films, and writing, capturing the uncertainty, resilience, fear, and hope that came with it. It isn't about having all the answers. It's about preserving an honest chapter of my life and sharing the reality of a journey that changed the way I see the world.
Losing my Hair
Losing my hair was the first time cancer became visible.
Until then, so much of what I was experiencing lived beneath the surface. The appointments, the treatment, the uncertainty, the exhaustion. They were real, but they were private and I felt like I could deal with those things without drawing too much attention to what I had going on. The day my hair began to fall out, there was no hiding it anymore. I wasn't just someone going through cancer. I looked like someone going through cancer. Doesn’t make it any easier that my identity lied within my hair. Ever since I was a kid I used my hair to express my individuality.
It changed the way I saw myself before it changed the way anyone else saw me. Looking in the mirror became unfamiliar. I had spent years building an identity around the way I presented myself, and overnight I was forced to separate who I was from what I looked like. It was uncomfortable, humbling, and strangely freeing.
Hair grows back. What stayed with me was the understanding that identity isn't something that can be taken away with a diagnosis or a treatment plan. It lives much deeper than appearance ever could.