My name is Grace Emmett, and I am a triple negative breast cancer (TNBC) survivor.

It started with a hard, marble-sized lump in my left breast that I found on March 31. Before I knew it, I was diagnosed with TNBC just five weeks before my wedding. I was 29 years old.

Those five weeks were supposed to be full of wedding jitters and last-minute details. Instead, they became nonstop appointments, scans, and testing.

Finding the Right Care Team

I decided to transfer my care from my local hospital to Dana-Farber Cancer Institute in Boston. That decision changed everything.

That’s where I met Dr. Ilana Schlam, who truly changed my world for the better.

Initially, I was supposed to start Keynote-522, but that plan quickly changed. After my fourth round of taxol/carbo and my third round of Keytruda, my ANC plummeted. I became grade 4 neutropenic for six weeks straight and was pulled from chemo during that time.

For six weeks, I was turned away.

My oncologist had to consult both an immunotherapy specialist and a hematologist to figure out how to safely get me back on treatment. It turned out that what I experienced was extremely rare — a form of pembrolizumab toxicity, where the drug attacked my immune system.

In July, I was put on a high dose of prednisone to counter the toxicity. The good news was that it worked. The hard part was those six weeks of waiting, uncertainty, and fear. It was incredibly defeating.

Still, I held onto hope. I trusted that my care team would figure it out — and they did.

I was permanently pulled from Keytruda and never went back on it.

Treatment, Surgery, and a Call I’ll Never Forget

I finished 12 weekly rounds of taxol/carbo in September, and that’s when we decided to move my surgery up.

I had a single mastectomy on October 21, 2025.

One week later, I got the call: I had achieved pathological complete response.

Those five months were the toughest months of my life.

Life After Surgery: The Reality of Recovery

Post-SMX, I’m still recovering.

Recovery is a delicate balance of positive and negative thoughts and emotions. I’ve learned that if you don’t acknowledge the negative ones every now and then, they build up like a pressure cooker. You have to let the steam out — otherwise, it takes control.

Being in recovery is a very strange place to live. You’re cancer-free, so you should just be happy… right?

I often feel guilty when I’m not positive, but I’ve learned that two truths can coexist. I am grieving the life and body I had, and I still find moments of joy and peace.

Just because you’re cancer-free doesn’t mean you aren’t still going through it.

There’s so much mental gymnastics happening, and physically, your body is still healing. Let the hard days be hard — because they are. Give yourself grace. Give yourself time.

Learning a New Relationship With My Body

Your body has gone through a lot. Nothing about cancer treatment is easy.

I still have my tissue expander in, with reconstruction scheduled for March, so I don’t yet know what my new normal will feel like.

Some people wear their scars with pride.

Some cry every time they see them.

Some, like me, are still getting used to them.

Please know that whatever you choose, there is intention and strength behind it.

Why POST SWIM Matters to Me

One thing I really love about POST SWIM is that it gives you the choice — to show your scars or to hide them.

Some days, cancer is the last thing I want to talk about or think about. There is so much more to me than cancer. But the idea that something like this can give women confidence — especially in a society that constantly pushes appearances — is so important.

It’s freezing in Boston right now, but I cannot wait to take my POST SWIM suit to Mexico.

The material truly snatches me in, and honestly… I look really good in it. There haven’t been many things post-surgery that make me feel good, but my Ro One Piece absolutely does.

POST SWIM just gets it.

A Note to the Community

Feel free to connect with me on Instagram at @gracedbyyourpresence. I’m always open about my journey, and I’m here with you every step of the way.

The breast cancer community is a lifeline.

The worst club. The best people.