Flat & Fabulous, Fearless & Free — cancer free.

It’s Pinktober.

Even the leaves are celebrating.

Some people call it Breast Cancer Awareness Month. I call it Celebrate the Hell Out of Life month.

But then I do that every month.

Someone added a new day. You probably missed it, but Oct. 7 was Happy International Flat Day to celebrate and honor all the women who have undergone mastectomies without reconstruction to fight or prevent breast cancer.

We call ourselves Flat & Fabulous. We even have our own Facebook group. There are more than 9,000 members in our special sorority. The closed group launched in 2019 so we can share intimate questions and photos about life in the flat lane. We support those who chose not to get reconstruction, who want to reclaim their natural body.

We’re a special tribe of warriors. We’ve dealt with the strange and unkind comments from parents, spouses, lovers, siblings and strangers commenting on our surgical decision and/or our lack of breasts.

We share tips on how to deal with infections, IV ports, drains, pains, scars and sadness. We talk about the second guessing, the crying in the shower, the celebrations of life and sadly, the endings of a few lives. We post photos of ourselves in swimsuits and dresses and share how we came to feel sexy and beautiful again without boobs.

We know that not every surgeon celebrates going flat as a viable, beautiful option. Sadly, some surgeons don’t listen to a woman’s choice and leave extra skin for later reconstruction that many woman don’t want and struggle to embrace.

I have a beautiful reminder of my victory engraved on my chest, left by surgeon Leonard Brzozowski, who respected and honored my choice.

Those two scars form a V. They stand for my victory over cancer and my vibrant life.

Other women add flourishes to their scars, tattoos of wings or roses.

Last week my flat friends posted photos that made me laugh and smile. One woman was flat fishing --  fly fishing topless and breastless. One wore a big sweeping skirt of tulle -- and nothing else. Another wore a T-shirt that read, “Yes, they’re gone. They tried to kill me.”

When I had my breasts removed 19 years ago, I did so quietly at first. There wasn’t a big community of women going public. I wore prosthetics to try to look “normal,” whatever that is.

Then years later, on a trip to the Grand Canyon, I left my fake breasts in the hotel room. I hiked Bright Angel Trail with a sister and my daughter, who had a preventative double mastectomy at 29. I gave her the BRCA1 gene. I got breast cancer at 41 when she was just 19. She had surgery to prevent getting breast cancer. Neither of us got reconstruction.

At one point on the trail, when it was about 100 degrees, we were the only hikers, so I paused, took off my shirt, flexed and said, “Take that, cancer!”

My computer screen saver is the photo of that hike. It reminds me to get busy living, and to celebrate that life. I “get to” be flat & fabulous, fearless & free.

Sometimes people ask why I still bring up cancer when I had it so long ago. It’s been 22 years since the diagnosis, surgery, chemo and radiation.

Why continue to speak about it? Because it isn’t over for someone else.

Because someone today is getting diagnosed.

Someone today is weeping over the word cancer.

Someone today is getting cut open to save her life.

Someone today is unwrapping her new body.  

Someone today is looking in the mirror and wondering if she will ever feel whole again.

Someone today needs to hear that she doesn’t need breasts to be a woman.

Someone today needs to know that she will stop crying.

Someone today needs to remember that in time she will celebrate her new body.

Someone today needs to learn that the true love of her life will never leave her, because she alone is the true love of her life for the rest of her life.

And that’s why each of us takes this radical step.

To love life.

Because life is worth the fight.