The Power of Pink

It's that time of year again.

Time for the store shelves to be bathed in pink with signs screaming, "Buy me and you'll be doing your part to cure breast cancer!"

Time for me to crawl into a hole as Facebook, Instagram, TV commercials and billboards explode with pink images, gently reminding me of something that I am constantly trying not to think about.

Breast Cancer.

Now don't get me wrong.

There is nothing wrong with awareness.

In fact, we need to make people aware so that they can be their own best advocate.

Women simply have got to take the time to do self breast exams and have a yearly mammogram.

DO YOU HEAR ME LADIES???

JUST DO IT!

I have truly come in a complete circle since my own diagnosis.

In the beginning, pink was everything to me.

It brought me a sense of control to a situation in which I had no control.

It brought me hope.  It helped me feel the love, power, and unity that could only be felt by people coming together with one purpose.  That purpose?  To make me whole again.  To heal me.  To get rid of the cancer beast.  

It was a way for me to make a very scary experience fun.  We needed fun.  I had four little kiddos who desperately needed to have some fun amid the terrorizing thoughts of losing their mother.

Yes, pink is very important to me and I will never be ashamed of using it to fight my own, personal battle.

Now, in the aftermath of the battle, pink takes on a whole new meaning.

Pink now means constant reminders, which are both good and bad.

I wear my pink survivor bracelet to remind me of the lessons I learned, 

the battle that was waged,

 and to be grateful for every single day.

Good reminders.

The bad reminders come when I can't even pick up a bar of soap without being reminded that breast cancer is still out there, lurking, waiting to pounce on unsuspecting women (and men) at any moment.  It could very well pounce on me again.

Only time will tell.

Another part of the bad reminders comes when I meet women who are on the other side of the pink.

Women, who now at Stage IV, no longer fit in the "pink mold of hope".

Women who fight day in and day out to just not throw up that day, or to simply get out of bed.

Women who hardly benefit from any of the money that is raised by all of the pink mugs, cups, cereal, crackers, socks, shoes, etc- because only a very small portion of the money goes towards the research of metastatic (Stage IV) breast cancer.
It is because of these very brave women that I have come to love, that I will now be donating money to foundations like Image Reborn and Metavivor.
I feel that these two organizations help in ways that are so needed at the moment- one is helping women rebuild their lives and feel good about themselves again and the other is trying desperately to help those women who feel they no longer have any hope.

Yes, the color pink packs quite powerful punch and it definitely gives us something to think about.
My hope with this post, is that when we refer to the color pink in support of this dreadful disease, that we pause to look at both ends of the pink spectrum.

The side that brings hope, love, and joy to a living nightmare

and the side that brings reminders, dread and despair.
Breast cancer is not fun for anyone.
It is hard.
It is painful.
It is everywhere.

We can all make a difference in the lives of those who are touched with this disease by showering them with the things that bring them joy, peace, and comfort in a time of uncertainty.  It doesn't really matter if that comes in the form of a huge pink party, a simple hug, a card, some flowers, or $$.  What matters is that they know that you care,that you are there for them,
and that they are loved.