Boobs Tried to Kill Me... Now What?

On a random afternoon in March 2025, my body betrayed me.

One day, I was living life — teaching, laughing, making plans for the future — and the next, I was sitting in a sterile room, hearing words that cracked my world open:

"You have breast cancer."

I always thought my boobs and I had a good relationship. Sure, they made bra shopping complicated, but they were part of me. They grew with me, bounced through my best dance moves, and showed up strong even when the rest of me felt weak. Turns out, they had other plans.

Suddenly, these parts of me that I once loved — that society told me to flaunt, to fixate on, to dress up — were a threat to my life.

And just like that, everything changed.

The Flood of Feelings

I wish I could tell you I faced it all gracefully, but let’s be real. I cried. I cussed. I mourned the version of me that didn’t have to think about chemo, surgeries, scars, or losing parts of myself — literally and figuratively.

I wrestled with questions no one prepares you for:

• What happens to your femininity when your body changes?

• Will I recognize myself after this?

• Can I still be beautiful? Desirable? Whole?

These aren’t just medical battles. They’re emotional earthquakes.

Choosing to Fight — and to Laugh

Here’s what I decided pretty early on: If cancer was going to come for me, it wasn’t going to get the last laugh.

I made a vow to myself:

• I would grieve when I needed to, but I would also fight like hell.

• I would cry when it hurt, but I would also find reasons to laugh.

• I would lose what I had to, but I would never lose my humanity.

Save the Human Project was born out of that vow.

This space is where I tell the truth about what it feels like to have your own body turn against you — and what it feels like to fight back, human and messy and loud.

Now What?

Now, I build. Now, I heal. Now, I help others do the same.

This isn’t just my fight. It’s ours — because the truth is, at some point in life, every one of us faces something that tries to take us out.

This is what we do:

• We cry.

• We scream.

• We ask for help.

• We wear the scars with pride.

• We save the human, even when it’s hard.

  
  

If you’re reading this, you’re part of the story now. Thank you for being here. Thank you for seeing me — and for fighting to save the human inside yourself, too.

Stay tuned. Stay human. Stay loud.

💖 Khira