Today is the first part of my interview with Eline. At the time of the portraits, Eline had only recently heard that she has breast cancer and had her first round of chemotherapy just a few days before the shoot.
Tell us about yourself?
I’m a highly sensitive person who, in the past years, has become more and more myself. Unapologetically so.
I live fully and intensely; I don’t want to miss or shy away from any of it, the light and darkness that life brings. My intention is to live as purely and authentically as I may, staying close to myself. I’ve struggled with insecurity, body image, and not feeling good enough; this is a challenge. I guess I’ve always felt a bit out of place and (socially) awkward. I grew up in quite an unsafe environment with domestic violence and an unstable family unit. I took on roles at a very young age that were detrimental and not suitable for a child.
Much in my life has been about unlearning and healing through introspection, therapy, meditation, and studies. I’m on the journey to myself. It’s a healing journey that has slowly and not always as steadily created self-acceptance, self-love, and self-compassion. Learning to trust the universe… It’s been a beautiful and fantastic ride, and I feel so much freer and in tune with myself and the universe than I’ve ever felt before. This led me to make a radical career change a few years ago. I became a life coach, left the company I had worked for ages, and started my own practice.
I’m versatile and multi-passionate. I lived in the USA for a year as an exchange student. I became a professional model for a few years, then stopped at university to study Cultural Anthropology and Environment & Development. I finished my master’s degree with a thesis on the research I conducted in the Canadian arctic, where I lived for three months. While completing my studies, I started working for a company where I held various positions in 12 years, finishing as a business consultant and coach. In addition, I’ve been making (predominately) black and white analog photographs since my teenage years…
I had been living so healthily, especially the past five years. There was no history of cancer in my family.
I now know I held a conviction that I would not be able to make a living doing what I truly wanted. I had resigned myself to always having a less desired job making money while doing what I felt passionate about on the side. In the process of growing and healing, I found the courage and belief to change things around. To get certified as a life coach and take a leap of faith and choose what I truly love to do and where I may use my talents fully. I’ve learned and experienced firsthand how we can genuinely heal, lack, and hurt and become who we truly are and always have been. I feel it’s the most beautiful and fulfilling thing to help people on their journey, and I’m so happy I chose this path for myself.
Lastly, I’m 44, bisexual, single without children, and currently undergoing breast cancer treatment. I’ve been in several serious relationships that, unfortunately, mostly ended in heartbreak (mine). Not becoming a (biological) mom, however, is still a fresh wound. I’ve tried to become a single mother for the past two years through IUI (intrauterine insemination). With the diagnosis of breast cancer, that dream came to an end. I would love to share my life again with someone, and I trust that this will come again.
Tell us more about your breast cancer journey?
I was diagnosed with breast cancer in May of this year. It all went very quickly. On Friday evening, while undressing, I noticed the nipple of my left breast was retracted. On Saturday, I tried to ‘wake up’ my nipple, but it didn’t work. Then I googled it and discovered a retracted nipple is one of the main symptoms of breast cancer. I had no idea. I had quite a nervous weekend and called my GP on Monday morning. I was immediately given an appointment that day, and my GP referred me to get a mammogram.
I had an appointment in a clinic the next day. The radiologist luckily chose to do a breast ultrasound after nothing showed up on the mammogram. There he discovered abnormal tissue in my left breast and lymph nodes in my left armpit. The moment a specialist, before having any definite answers, says that he’s worried is the moment you know you’re in trouble. But then, it was so strange to me that I couldn’t yet fathom what was happening. I had been living so healthily, especially the past five years. There was no history of cancer in my family. In addition, the years preceding this moment had been quite rough already. It just seemed quite off that this would be what it was.
But then, the following day, there was the biopsy and puncture to harvest tissue and cells from the affected areas. And in the afternoon, I was given the preliminary results. They had found cancerous cells in both my breast and my lymph nodes. Many examinations followed to determine the size of the tumor and if it had spread to any other parts of my body. Two weeks later, I received definite results. It was quite a large tumor that had luckily not spread further than to my lymph nodes. It was the most rapidly-dividing type of breast cancer, and my wish to become a (biological) mum would irrevocably end here. Due to my age, I could not participate in a fertility trajectory. This was the heaviest blow, I must say. I knew the chances to get pregnant at 44 were very slim, but having my hopes taken away like this was heartbreaking.
Though I understood the importance of a quick start of the treatment, I decided that my mental health was of equal importance. I left for my family home in France out in the countryside for a ten-day retreat. I knew months of chemotherapy were ahead of me by then, followed by an operation and radiotherapy and seven years of hormone therapy.
You must wonder why I hadn’t felt the tumor in my breast. Well, it turned out I had what they call ‘young breasts.’ The tissue in my breasts was so dense and firm, like that of teenage breasts, that the mammogram did not show the tumor, nor could I have properly felt it myself. These young breasts are now long gone, unfortunately. The chemotherapy induces menopause, and with the changing of the hormones in my body, my breasts now feel unrecognizable to me.
These photographs were taken by the wonderful Dee a week after my first chemo treatment. So much has happened since and I in no way look like the woman in the pictures. My hair is gone, I’ve gained weight, and my face looks unrecognizable due to the prednisone. I’ve been given to recover from a severe lung infection that hospitalized me for a week. It’s been a remarkable and even beautiful experience.
After the diagnosis, I immediately felt very strongly that I was not going to fight this cancer; I would not battle against my own body. I want to help my body recover from this unfortunate mishap with care and compassion. Then, after returning from my trip to France, a deep serenity came over me, an inner silence; you may even say an inner peace. And she’s been with me along the ride. I must say I’m pretty amazed by it.
The cancer is responding very well to the chemotherapy. Nevertheless, I don’t know what will happen. It’s still quite a way to go, and I’m not taking an advance on the future. However, I do feel this unswayed trust in what is and will be.
You can follow Eline’s journey here.
