It passed 8 years since the day my angel freed me from the ‘bastard’ and he gave me back life and hope. It was aggressive, bad, big. The night before surgery my mother didn’t come home and we slept together in the same hospital bed. I was scared…I thoutht I couldn’t do it. I held her strongly and I cried all my tears. My mother smelled good as that ‘magic coat’ she gave to me when she went to Rome to have the same surgery 20 years before. I was only 9 and she missed me so much but with tahat coat I’ve always felt her by my side. It smelled of mum and love. An then I did  that love mine the day of surgery; when I was going to the O.R I promised that if I would have been alive after all I would have loved life every day without never let me go down…I’ve always smiled even when I had lost my hair, when I went fat or tired  by chemo. Even when I was scared I wanted to go on not to let to cancer the last words…I’ve always did a lot of things without stopping and I try to be happy every single day because every day I open my eyes and I look for good in everything despite difficulties. I am proud of my scar and even if it’s on my breast I feel beautiful and sexy because it’s the symbol of all the strong I had then and now. I didn’t know how I was strong until it was the only choice I had. In this years I lost my hair and eyebrows, I’m fat, tired, empty. I cried a lot, I was so much scared…but I never lost the wishing to live that shines in my eyes even in the worst moments and draws my smile everyday trying to make my life beautiful having no regrets. Since the 2nd of February of 2010 I’ve always smiled. The monster damaged me a wing but not the heart. As a Fenice reborned by its ashes I reborned the day of Candlemas.

  • Photographer: Luigi Cataldo
  • In collaboration with: Associazione "Cuore di Donna"