Diagnosis at 25

I was diagnosed with Stage III Melanoma at the age of 25, just a few months after my son’s first birthday. I had gone in for my first ever skin check (and it was only because my mom told me to, YAY MOM). They took off the smallest spot on my shoulder, it was a mix between a mole and a skin tag. It had popped up ONLY a month prior to that appointment and became dark and then black within that short amount of time. The dermatologist told me not to worry, so I left that appointment and I didn’t. She called a week later and said “It came back as Melanoma, we are concerned about how deep it is and we need to transfer your case over to University of Michigan ASAP.”

Navigating Treatment & Monitoring

Fast forward a month later and I was having surgery to remove the surrounding area, plus my sentinel node underneath my armpit as that tested positive for Melanoma as well. I was given the choice to have all my lymph nodes underneath my armpit removed and/or immunotherapy but at that time (7 years ago now), being that we caught it so early, the medical team thought the pros didn’t necessarily outweigh the cons on doing either, so I opted not to. I have been heavily monitored since with ultrasounds, CT scans, MRI’s, blood tests and of course more frequent skin checks. Something unique about Melanoma is the cancer can metastasis as referenced by the National Library of Medicine to the fetus so in addition to the initial diagnosis we were also told we had to hold off on having more kids for 5 years. While there were a lot of uncertainties, moles removed and biopsies that resulted in more scars the past 7 years, I’m happy to report the cancer has not come back and we were blessed with a daughter who is now 3 and completed our family of 4.

Facing Scars & Confidence

One thing I remember vividly shortly after my surgery was one of my best friends getting married. I was a bridesmaid and wore this beautiful black one shoulder dress. Of course the one shoulder was the opposite shoulder of my big scar so it was on full display for everyone which really made me uncomfortable. I remember asking the makeup artist to do as much as she could to cover it. That same scenario played out over and over AT LEAST the first couple of years after my diagnosis when swimsuit season would arrive. At that time, I had a toddler so staying covered and inside all the time wasn’t an option. Plus we are an outdoorsy family who likes to get fresh air and explore!

Why POST SWIM Matters

I wish POST SWIM would have been around 7 years ago as even though the swimsuits won’t fully cover my scar, the mission and sense of community would have been priceless for me! It sounds silly to say now, but when I was in the thick of my diagnosis, I truly felt like I was the only young person on the planet to experience a cancer diagnosis and feeling self conscious about my body. Not only my post-cancer body but also my post-mom body! I ended up having to have a C-section with my son (and then my daughter later on).

Post cancer life is like post mom life in the sense that there is the person you were before and the person you are after. There is no “returning to normal” as literally everything has changed. Things like feeling confident in your body. POST SWIM sucks me in, in all the right places! The material is thicker so I can move around and play with my kids without having to worry something is going to pop out. Feeling confident in a bathing suit post surgery and/or post mom life is not talked about enough until POST SWIM. Its like having your BFF right next to you encouraging you every step you take to the pool (or in my case now that fall has hit, the sauna). Just like a little black dress, every women deserves a little (black, pink or blue) bathing suit that makes them FEEL good physically and emotionally.

Learning to Embrace My Scars

I used to despise my scars. It signified what was taken from me. Where I was broken. Where my body betrayed me. I’ve always felt connected to my body, being able to know or sense when something was off.

Now, 7 years later, I’ve realized they are apart of my story. They remind me on my bad days, that I’ve been through much worse. If I can get through a cancer diagnosis, I can get through a bad day today. Now I show my scars because I want others to know they can heal, too.