Why I went ‘topless’ on social media after breast cancer surgery: ‘Seeing my scar in pictures reminds me that I am still me’

Life, for me and many other breast cancer survivors, falls into two categories: Before and after breast cancer. And eight months after breast cancer surgery where my left breast was removed, I can say that there are things I know now that I never could have imagined back then.

I didn’t know that my scar would form a jagged line across my left chest just above my heart – a neat, 5cm reminder of the fear I faced when I was first diagnosed and of the three-hour surgery I went through in January.

I didn’t know that the area around the surgery site would feel numb and tight for months. Or that, in my particular case, sensation would slowly return in pinpricks, prickles, and surprisingly ticklish sensations that would half-wake me during the night.

I didn’t know that the scar would change, going from deep reds and sunset purples to a softer pink. Or that you’d be able to visibly detect my heartbeat, a pulsing against the thin skin covering my chest.

Nor did I know that I would be moved to show that scar on social media and in doing so, I would join the body positivity movement which encourages people to love and accept their bodies, regardless of their shape, size, or physical imperfections.

When people ask why I took near-nude pictures of myself pre- and post-surgery at all, my answer is that I first wanted to document this journey through breast cancer – to remind myself of what life looked like before, and what it looks like after.

I took those pictures, often relying on kind photographer friends who donated their time to me and my mission, to reclaim a part of my spirit. If there was one thing I could control on the terrifying, uncertain road through breast cancer and its aftermath, it was how I viewed my body and my emotions surrounding my being.

I can tell you that as a woman who’s lost a part of herself, surrendering a breast out of necessity to a surgeon’s cold knife, that my pictures gave me confidence.

Post-surgery, my husband of 11 years kept telling me I was beautiful, one boob short and otherwise. The first time I viewed post-surgery photos of myself, I could actually believe him.

I saw someone who was grateful for life. I saw a woman who had come through something and who could smile. And I saw someone who was scarred, but was still complete within herself. I saw beauty in all that.

That is how my topless photos became an integral part of my healing journey. And then, I discovered I wanted to show that scars and changes resulting from medical procedures should not be hidden in shame but celebrated as symbols of strength and resilience.

In the process, I discovered a newfound sense of freedom and empowerment that has enriched my life in ways I never could have imagined.

BREAST-LESS, BUT STILL 100 PER CENT WOMAN

I am not unique. Other breast cancer warriors have walked down this road before, sharing pictures of themselves with their scars on show. They describe the ‘why’ of going topless and exposing yourself to the world with more grace than I ever could.

Eylon Nuphar, an Israeli journalist and performing artist, posed shirtless for the cover of an Israeli women’s magazine in 2020 – just one month after undergoing a double mastectomy. The 49-year-old has since chosen to ‘go flat’, opting to not have reconstruction.

“I was sorry to part with my breasts,” she said then, “but I remain 100 per cent woman.

“As more and more women, and society in general, come in contact with breast-less women, it will give (other women) an additional option to express their womanhood even without breasts, and to be as they are,” she wrote.

Christina Belding, who had a double mastectomy, walked down a beach in only a bikini bottom to raise awareness of breast cancer survivorship in 2020.

The 52-year-old American survivor summed it up this way: “There is life after your breasts. You don't need breasts to feel any more feminine or to be a woman.”

Other women like Canadian photographer Amelia Purdy, also known as @youbymia, regularly post pictures of themselves on their social media pages, showing surgery scars are not something to be ashamed of.

In an opinion piece for website Love What Matters earlier this year, Purdy described how she had a panic attack when she was first diagnosed, just days after her 36th birthday. I can relate to her fear. There were few images of women with mastectomy scars that could help either of us visualise what one’s body can look like, and therefore what one might be facing.

“The images I saw (of women with mastectomy scars) were of older women and they were all clinical and cold,” she wrote. “I wanted to put photos out there of young women with scars, something I didn’t see much of when I Googled.”

She added: “I didn’t realise how therapeutic posing topless and telling my story would be.”

BODY POSITIVITY IN THE POST-SURGERY JOURNEY

I didn’t initially take photos with the intention to post them on my own social media pages. They were meant only to accompany a series on my experience I was writing, published in March on WhatAreYouDoing.SG, a social website outside of mainstream media.

But in learning more about how women felt about their bodies post-surgery, and then going through it all myself, I began to see that cultivating and fostering body positivity is an important part of healing in the wake of breast cancer.

In a small study in 2016, titled Body Image of Women with Breast Cancer After Mastectomy - A Qualitative Study, published in the Journal of Breast Health, researchers noted that the loss of a breast through mastectomy will have multiple meanings and can trigger conflicting emotions.

Some women in the study reported being grateful to still be alive and saw this as more important than the loss of a breast. Other women understood the necessity of the surgery for their health, but after surgery, they experienced great sadness at the loss.

For many, the first encounter with the surgical area can be disturbing and exhausting – expectedly so as one confronts a new version of oneself. 

Some women might look at the surgical site shortly after the operation, while others – for  various reasons – may wait much longer.

Many of the study’s participants mentioned that when they did see the operation site in the mirror, they felt “bad, weird and different”. I did not have such feelings, which I found surprising, and felt moved to post my ‘topless’ pictures.

My reasons are twofold. First, I could find few Asian women who posted such pictures, despite rising cases of breast cancer worldwide. In Singapore, according to statistics from the Breast Cancer Foundation, one in six women receives a breast cancer diagnosis a day. 

I hope that my pictures can help assuage the fears of those who desperately seek answers to what surgery and scars might look like. After all, I was there once, too. 

Second, my intent is to communicate that while all feelings are valid, there are women like myself who embrace their new bodies and find the journey interesting, and at times even exciting. This is especially since many breast cancer fighters feel as though they are going through a transformation in body and mind. I certainly did.

Physically, I had to come to terms with my altered body. The changes were undeniable, but they do not define me or my self-worth. That led to me feeling stronger and happier than ever.

As a yoga teacher, I am no stranger to the concept of such transformations. I have encountered and taught amputees, cancer survivors, those with heart disease and others facing incredible challenges.

From them, I learnt that a willingness to play the cards that life has dealt you challenges negative thought patterns. It cultivates strength and healing.

So while my scar is a reminder of my breast cancer experience, forever etched on my body and being, seeing my scar in pictures reminds me that I am still me and that cancer took none of my joy, or my innate ability to find and feel joy, away from me.

In showing my scar, I am sharing my experiences and my thoughts. For women who are not on the breast cancer journey, my hope is that they might feel that breast cancer scars – internal or external, visible or not – are a route marker on the journey of life. Those scars are normal, and even beautiful. I hope that it reminds all women that they can feel empowered, no matter what they look like or what their challenges in life have been.

And let me speak to my breast cancer sisters specifically. It is my hope that while you may have little choice in your diagnosis and treatment, my story might help you remember that joy is possible no matter where you are standing in your journey.

Re-discovering the ‘new you’, knowing it, becoming comfortable with it and loving it, scars and all, is an essential component of life after surgery. The key is to find ways to stay attuned to your own strength, emotional intelligence, resilience and beauty.

Jill Alphonso goes by @jillhealsnaturally on Instagram. For Breast Cancer Awareness month, you can join her intimate, experiential wellness events at the W Singapore – Sentosa Cove on Oct 7, and at wellness centre Soma Haus on Oct 21.