We all have those moments in life where everything seems to be aligning. Not too long ago, my days were a whirlwind of deadlines, beauty launches, creating content, and connecting with my social media followers, while I was living and loving my Dubai era with family and friends. I thought I had it all figured out.
As an American living in the UAE, Cosmo ME’s Beauty Editor, a proud mum of two, and self-confessed spiritual junkie, I manifested a world that was balanced between my love for glamour and mummyhood infused with a deep appreciation for the mysteries of the universe. On December 15, 2023, 10 days before Christmas, everything changed with four simple words: ‘It is breast cancer.‘ What followed was a rollercoaster ride of emotions, challenges, unexpected blessings, and finding beauty in the unlikeliest places.
When life gives you lemons, dress up the mess in pink and have a photoshoot. Photo by Heather Bonker Photography
Ironically, I was expecting a big change. To give a little context, in 2018 I spontaneously flipped a spiritual switch and my entire mindset seemingly changed overnight. I dove deep into the world of meditation, self-reflection, and energy healing. I frequently shared content like full moon rituals and manifestation tips with my 75,000 social media followers as I explored my soulful transformation. I even did pick-a-card oracle readings on my Instastories with my channelled messages so that others could receive guidance and inspiration.
Two months before my diagnosis, I hosted a breast cancer event for The Big Beauty Scoop. I had no idea I’d be told I had breast cancer just weeks later.
I consulted spiritual advisors and mentors quite often and had been told by a few that I would experience a massive transition at the end of last year. I assumed a great opportunity would be coming my way. I certainly had been working hard enough. Little did I know that life had what’s known in tarot as a tower moment in store for me. Pure chaos, destruction, and little did I know, lots of emotional, mental, physical, and spiritual clearing.
With my sun in Scorpio, I’ve experienced life as an endless series of deaths and rebirths as I respond and react to the ebbs and flows of this mysterious, watery element that rules my chart. As the year was coming to a close, I was teetering on the cusp of a new chapter in my life. Maybe even a new book. I turned the first page when I performed a breast self-exam at home. The left breast checked out fine, but the right one was a different story. Once I felt the lump, I decided to wait and try again in 30 minutes, as if it would magically disappear. To my disappointment, I could still feel it half an hour later.
Taken at a rest stop in Azerbaijan a few hours before learning my devstating news.
The lump was biopsied and within a week, I received the news. At the time, I was in Azerbaijan for a quick work trip and had asked my doctor to text me the results. A couple of months prior, I hosted a breast cancer event in Dubai. I shared a lot of information about breast cancer during that time with my audience and I understood how prevalent the disease is today (one out of every eight women get breast cancer). Despite this, I would have bet my entire lipstick collection (over 500!) that I would receive a message saying everything was fine.
After I got the news, the tears started flowing. I was by myself, in my hotel room, texting family and a few close friends nonstop. I never thought (and I’ve now learned that everyone says this) that I would have breast cancer. I was terrified I would leave my kids without a mother. For a quick second, I thought that I should post an Instastory saying that I had just been diagnosed but my inner wisdom said, not yet. I felt betrayed by my body and by the universe. I looked out my hotel room window and gave the moon the middle finger, which now makes me laugh.
Before I knew it, my social life was replaced by hospital visits.
The results of the tests came back as stage 2A Invasive Ductal Carcinoma. The hormones responsible for my youth and beauty, oestrogen and progesterone, were feeding the cancer in my breast. Although I didn’t see the cancer coming into my life, I know a good omen when I see one. I felt that I was getting a sign from the universe that I was divinely protected when I found out that my breast cancer surgeon shared the same and somewhat uncommon name as my daughter, Veronica.
Following the advice from a spiritual friend, I decided to keep my experience with breast cancer off social media. Intuitively, I felt from the get-go that this was a deeply personal, spiritual journey I was embarking on. It wasn’t a time for me to be posting stories, answering DMs, and creating videos on my cancer. If I shared my news publicly, my socials would blow up. I was an emotional, confused mess and honestly, I wasn’t ready for it.
I kept my endless series of tests, scans, and doctor appointments off social media for my own sanity.
In tarot, there is a card called The Hermit. It’s a solitary figure with a mountain in the background that represents retreating from the world and enduring hardships to gain wisdom. The hermit holds a lantern, symbolising his inner wisdom lighting the way forward and illuminating the need for self-reflection. As much as I would appreciate words of encouragement from my social media followers, I was going into hermit mode and retreating from the world.
This was a challenge because I was used to constantly sharing my life on apps, especially Instagram. It felt strange keeping my diagnosis to myself. I wondered at times if I was making the right decision keeping it a secret and each time, my inner voice said yes. Breast cancer was creating space and giving me time to focus on something I often overlooked- Me. In a twisted sort of way, I had been handed a clean, blank slate.
I decided to look at breast cancer as an adventure and to take it day by day. Testing initially showed I had two tumours next to each other in my right breast. My doctors decided to do a lumpectomy (as opposed to a mastectomy) first, followed by a course of radiotherapy treatments. During my first surgery, it was determined the cancer indeed had spread to one lymph node. This meant chemotherapy would be part of my treatment plan. I was devastated. I couldn’t fathom losing my hair, eyelashes, and eyebrows nor being connected to tubes filled with body-traumatising medications and constant clinic visits. This felt like the ultimate setback.
A few hours after my surgery, my mind was churning with thoughts of whether or not I’d need chemo.
Recovering from the surgeries was tough. For weeks, I was forced to sleep on my back (I’m a natural side sleeper so this was torturous), couldn’t move my right arm due to a 12cm lymph node incision, or get my chest area wet when I showered. During this time, I was completely silent on social media to focus on healing. I received a lot of messages of concern from followers across my different channels, who were used to my consistent posting. It was unlike me to disappear without any explanation.
The surgeries felt like a warm-up compared to the next phase of my treatment plan. My oncologist prescribed four rounds of the most aggressive type of chemo, doxorubicin (also known as the red devil for its red colour and tough side effects) and cyclophosphamide, followed by 12 rounds of paclitaxel, another not-so-pleasant therapy. The point of chemotherapy is to kill all rapidly producing cancer cells. Even with the chemo challenge, I was determined to face each treatment with resilience and hope for what lay ahead.
Three weeks after my first dose of the red devil, my hair began falling out in clumps. It quickly thinned out so badly that I could see my scalp. I felt like my beauty was melting away. I tried cold capping, a technique that uses dry ice at a temperature of -50 degrees Celsius during infusions to slow down blood flow to the head and preserve hair follicles, but it didn’t work. Emotionally, I was completely drained.
Cold capping had its own challenges. The cap was very heavy and my head felt like it was being squished for eight long hours.
To get a little control over the situation, I asked my husband and kids to shave my head. I turned the process into a ceremony and wrote on a piece of paper everything I wanted to leave behind with my hair. Surrounded by crystals, I burned the list containing the patterns I had outgrown, thoughts, and habits along with my remaining hair and asked that I move on from these outdated energies that no longer serve me. At the time, I was still posting tips and information about skincare ingredients and upcoming astrological events on my stories. I occasionally posted a photo of myself. However, after shaving my head, I stopped showing myself completely.
My hair fell out in clumps by the third week of chemo. This was one of many.
In addition to the hair loss, I experienced a host of other not-so-great reactions to the medications. I had to be isolated from society because my white blood cell counts plummeted. Even my kids had to shower and change clothes before they could come near me after school. I felt life was passing me by as I stayed in bed, weak, fatigued, and nauseous for a good eight or nine weeks.
My daughter, son, and hubby all took turns shaving my head. It was super emosh to say the least.
My hands and feet constantly tingled with pins and needles, I broke out in acne every week and had perpetual nose bleeds. I experienced up to 20 hot flushes per day thanks to the chemically induced menopause. This was another side effect of the chemotherapy messing with my hormones and killing healthy cells in my ovaries. Let’s just say I’d give the experience zero out of five stars.
Being bald wasn’t as bad as I thought it’d be.
I was told by my oncologist that due to the medications including steroids, I would gain weight. I hoped this wouldn’t be the case but the number on the scale kept increasing. I initially thought I’d make some cute TikToks while getting chemo and post them later, but I was so affected by all the side effects that I didn’t have the energy for it. This confirmed my earlier feelings of focusing on me, not social media.
My face ballooned up from the steroids and constantly broke out in acne.
I rested a lot during the five months of treatment and when I felt up for it, I kept myself occupied. Little does anyone know, but I have been working diligently on creating my beauty brand. I don’t want to say too much about it just yet, but in a world saturated by makeup and skincare labels, mine will stand out with some incredibly innovative, must-have products that fit into different lifestyles and deserve their place in the market. I can’t wait to share my brand with everyone and I have to actively restrain myself from leaking all the details on my social media. Creating my brand whilst undergoing breast cancer treatment is something I take immense pride in.
Goddesses can be bald, too. Photo by Heather Bonker Photography
Aside from working on my beauty line, I signed up for an astrological chart reading masterclass series. I also meditated frequently, had friends visit me, and read a lot of spiritual and fictional books. To cope with my diagnosis, I started seeing a therapist via Zoom. I didn’t realise that therapy would become an incredible tool of self-discovery and deep introspection for me. I have no plans of stopping anytime soon and I wish I had started it 10 years ago. I would have never seen a therapist if I didn’t have so much free time and somehow, I think this was meant to happen before I start the next stage of my life, as the CEO and founder of my brand.
Independence Day came one day late. After one hundred and thirty-three days of chemotherapy, on the fifth of July, the date of my last infusion arrived, and I went out with a fire cracking bang. Literally. One thing breast cancer has taught me is that everything should be celebrated. Big or small, it doesn’t matter. Throw your hands up and party hard.
A bunch of friends came to my last chemo infusion to celebrate the end of five long months of treatment with me.
For my last infusion, I had a Bye B*tch party and I’m sure I shocked the hospital staff (even though they joined us in the end). A bunch of friends came, and I had bamboo fans and a cake made. Amidst a sea of pink balloons and shimmery Mardi Gras-style necklaces, bubbles popping in fizzy grape juice, and my customised ‘I’m kicking cancer’s a** playlist, I was filled with gratitude, pride, and a sense of euphoria for reaching the finish line.
My IV pole didn’t escape the decorations.
I was saying bye to chemo, the struggles I endured for the past seven months, and parts of me that died along with the cancer cells. I also knew I’d soon be saying hello again to social media, and I made sure everyone took a bunch of pictures and videos for me. If I were to pick a card from my tarot deck, it would be the 3 of Cups. The card is very special to me and features three women dancing in a circle holding chalices. It represents joy, celebration, healing, and community.
I blew out a candle of my chemo cake and symbollically blew the cancer out of my life.
At the end of my infusion, I got to *finally* ring the bell, Selling Sunset style. I went a little too hard because I broke it. Let’s just say it was a major LOL moment that had my friends texting me for days afterwards. One even texted me a photo of bells she saw later at a restaurant and said she’d never look at them again without thinking of me. My nurse, who’d been with me throughout my infusions, assured me it’s happened before, but my son said that she was just being nice. I was the one and only. Somehow it fits.
I’m still waiting to get a bill from the hospital for their new bell.
Breaking that bell symbolises so much. I am determined to never, ever go back. I’m only looking forward. I’m not out of the woods yet, I still have 25 rounds of radiation to go through over five weeks. I also have scans and mammograms in my future in addition to taking a medication called Tamoxifen for five years. This medicine will help prevent the breast cancer from coming back. It has its side effects, but I know now, more than ever, that I can handle whatever comes my way. Breast cancer will always be part of my life’s story. This experience has been the biggest and most challenging test of my life, and I am a warrior in every sense. With my spirit rooted in hope and determination, my identity shaped by breast cancer’s challenges and my victories, I’m ready to embrace my future with courage and optimism.
I did this photoshoot just before my last chemotherapy session. No matter what happens in life, I always try to find positive moments. Photo by Heather Bonker Photography
As I’m typing this, I’m sitting in my home office 15 kgs heavier than I was just seven months ago with three eyelashes left on my right eye, a few hairs growing on my bald head and a lingering acne breakout peppered all over my complexion. I hate the way I look but here I am, alive with my husband and children. I’m ready to share my story. I just found out that Shannen Doherty, only 53 years old and of millennial TV show 90210 and Charmed fame, passed away after a nine-year battle with breast cancer. This disease is far too prevalent. As I put the final touches on my beauty brand and prepare for its launch, I know that infused into the core of my beauty brand is a mission to help spread awareness about this disease to help save other women’s lives. I’m not sure how exactly I’ll do it, but I’m going to make it happen.
Breast cancer taught me that in the waves of change, I found my direction. Photo by Heather Bonker Photography
I did the right thing by following my gut feelings and keeping my journey through my diagnosis, surgeries, and chemotherapy off social media. Prioritising my well-being and concentrating on my needs gave me the sacred space to connect with my true self and nurture my soul while healing. This period of introspection has also added a more profound depth to my beauty brand. I feel sheer gratitude for my medical team, my husband who came to every single appointment and infusion with me, the support of my kids, family, friends, and mostly for myself. Without my determination, positive attitude, and perseverance, I wouldn’t have gotten through this ordeal. The future is bright and there’s still life to live after diagnosis. I am surrounded by an abundance of emotional support, love, happiness despite life’s challenges, and peace. I’m having a 10 of Cups moment.
I kept my breast cancer a secret from my 75,000 social media followers
My diagnosis made me focus on something I often overlooked – me
We all have those moments in life where everything seems to be aligning. Not too long ago, my days were a whirlwind of deadlines, beauty launches, creating content, and connecting with my social media followers, while I was living and loving my Dubai era with family and friends. I thought I had it all figured out.
As an American living in the UAE, Cosmo ME’s Beauty Editor, a proud mum of two, and self-confessed spiritual junkie, I manifested a world that was balanced between my love for glamour and mummyhood infused with a deep appreciation for the mysteries of the universe. On December 15, 2023, 10 days before Christmas, everything changed with four simple words: ‘It is breast cancer.‘ What followed was a rollercoaster ride of emotions, challenges, unexpected blessings, and finding beauty in the unlikeliest places.
Ironically, I was expecting a big change. To give a little context, in 2018 I spontaneously flipped a spiritual switch and my entire mindset seemingly changed overnight. I dove deep into the world of meditation, self-reflection, and energy healing. I frequently shared content like full moon rituals and manifestation tips with my 75,000 social media followers as I explored my soulful transformation. I even did pick-a-card oracle readings on my Instastories with my channelled messages so that others could receive guidance and inspiration.
I consulted spiritual advisors and mentors quite often and had been told by a few that I would experience a massive transition at the end of last year. I assumed a great opportunity would be coming my way. I certainly had been working hard enough. Little did I know that life had what’s known in tarot as a tower moment in store for me. Pure chaos, destruction, and little did I know, lots of emotional, mental, physical, and spiritual clearing.
With my sun in Scorpio, I’ve experienced life as an endless series of deaths and rebirths as I respond and react to the ebbs and flows of this mysterious, watery element that rules my chart. As the year was coming to a close, I was teetering on the cusp of a new chapter in my life. Maybe even a new book. I turned the first page when I performed a breast self-exam at home. The left breast checked out fine, but the right one was a different story. Once I felt the lump, I decided to wait and try again in 30 minutes, as if it would magically disappear. To my disappointment, I could still feel it half an hour later.
The lump was biopsied and within a week, I received the news. At the time, I was in Azerbaijan for a quick work trip and had asked my doctor to text me the results. A couple of months prior, I hosted a breast cancer event in Dubai. I shared a lot of information about breast cancer during that time with my audience and I understood how prevalent the disease is today (one out of every eight women get breast cancer). Despite this, I would have bet my entire lipstick collection (over 500!) that I would receive a message saying everything was fine.
After I got the news, the tears started flowing. I was by myself, in my hotel room, texting family and a few close friends nonstop. I never thought (and I’ve now learned that everyone says this) that I would have breast cancer. I was terrified I would leave my kids without a mother. For a quick second, I thought that I should post an Instastory saying that I had just been diagnosed but my inner wisdom said, not yet. I felt betrayed by my body and by the universe. I looked out my hotel room window and gave the moon the middle finger, which now makes me laugh.
The results of the tests came back as stage 2A Invasive Ductal Carcinoma. The hormones responsible for my youth and beauty, oestrogen and progesterone, were feeding the cancer in my breast. Although I didn’t see the cancer coming into my life, I know a good omen when I see one. I felt that I was getting a sign from the universe that I was divinely protected when I found out that my breast cancer surgeon shared the same and somewhat uncommon name as my daughter, Veronica.
Following the advice from a spiritual friend, I decided to keep my experience with breast cancer off social media. Intuitively, I felt from the get-go that this was a deeply personal, spiritual journey I was embarking on. It wasn’t a time for me to be posting stories, answering DMs, and creating videos on my cancer. If I shared my news publicly, my socials would blow up. I was an emotional, confused mess and honestly, I wasn’t ready for it.
In tarot, there is a card called The Hermit. It’s a solitary figure with a mountain in the background that represents retreating from the world and enduring hardships to gain wisdom. The hermit holds a lantern, symbolising his inner wisdom lighting the way forward and illuminating the need for self-reflection. As much as I would appreciate words of encouragement from my social media followers, I was going into hermit mode and retreating from the world.
This was a challenge because I was used to constantly sharing my life on apps, especially Instagram. It felt strange keeping my diagnosis to myself. I wondered at times if I was making the right decision keeping it a secret and each time, my inner voice said yes. Breast cancer was creating space and giving me time to focus on something I often overlooked- Me. In a twisted sort of way, I had been handed a clean, blank slate.
I decided to look at breast cancer as an adventure and to take it day by day. Testing initially showed I had two tumours next to each other in my right breast. My doctors decided to do a lumpectomy (as opposed to a mastectomy) first, followed by a course of radiotherapy treatments. During my first surgery, it was determined the cancer indeed had spread to one lymph node. This meant chemotherapy would be part of my treatment plan. I was devastated. I couldn’t fathom losing my hair, eyelashes, and eyebrows nor being connected to tubes filled with body-traumatising medications and constant clinic visits. This felt like the ultimate setback.
Recovering from the surgeries was tough. For weeks, I was forced to sleep on my back (I’m a natural side sleeper so this was torturous), couldn’t move my right arm due to a 12cm lymph node incision, or get my chest area wet when I showered. During this time, I was completely silent on social media to focus on healing. I received a lot of messages of concern from followers across my different channels, who were used to my consistent posting. It was unlike me to disappear without any explanation.
The surgeries felt like a warm-up compared to the next phase of my treatment plan. My oncologist prescribed four rounds of the most aggressive type of chemo, doxorubicin (also known as the red devil for its red colour and tough side effects) and cyclophosphamide, followed by 12 rounds of paclitaxel, another not-so-pleasant therapy. The point of chemotherapy is to kill all rapidly producing cancer cells. Even with the chemo challenge, I was determined to face each treatment with resilience and hope for what lay ahead.
Three weeks after my first dose of the red devil, my hair began falling out in clumps. It quickly thinned out so badly that I could see my scalp. I felt like my beauty was melting away. I tried cold capping, a technique that uses dry ice at a temperature of -50 degrees Celsius during infusions to slow down blood flow to the head and preserve hair follicles, but it didn’t work. Emotionally, I was completely drained.
To get a little control over the situation, I asked my husband and kids to shave my head. I turned the process into a ceremony and wrote on a piece of paper everything I wanted to leave behind with my hair. Surrounded by crystals, I burned the list containing the patterns I had outgrown, thoughts, and habits along with my remaining hair and asked that I move on from these outdated energies that no longer serve me. At the time, I was still posting tips and information about skincare ingredients and upcoming astrological events on my stories. I occasionally posted a photo of myself. However, after shaving my head, I stopped showing myself completely.
In addition to the hair loss, I experienced a host of other not-so-great reactions to the medications. I had to be isolated from society because my white blood cell counts plummeted. Even my kids had to shower and change clothes before they could come near me after school. I felt life was passing me by as I stayed in bed, weak, fatigued, and nauseous for a good eight or nine weeks.
My hands and feet constantly tingled with pins and needles, I broke out in acne every week and had perpetual nose bleeds. I experienced up to 20 hot flushes per day thanks to the chemically induced menopause. This was another side effect of the chemotherapy messing with my hormones and killing healthy cells in my ovaries. Let’s just say I’d give the experience zero out of five stars.
I was told by my oncologist that due to the medications including steroids, I would gain weight. I hoped this wouldn’t be the case but the number on the scale kept increasing. I initially thought I’d make some cute TikToks while getting chemo and post them later, but I was so affected by all the side effects that I didn’t have the energy for it. This confirmed my earlier feelings of focusing on me, not social media.
I rested a lot during the five months of treatment and when I felt up for it, I kept myself occupied. Little does anyone know, but I have been working diligently on creating my beauty brand. I don’t want to say too much about it just yet, but in a world saturated by makeup and skincare labels, mine will stand out with some incredibly innovative, must-have products that fit into different lifestyles and deserve their place in the market. I can’t wait to share my brand with everyone and I have to actively restrain myself from leaking all the details on my social media. Creating my brand whilst undergoing breast cancer treatment is something I take immense pride in.
Aside from working on my beauty line, I signed up for an astrological chart reading masterclass series. I also meditated frequently, had friends visit me, and read a lot of spiritual and fictional books. To cope with my diagnosis, I started seeing a therapist via Zoom. I didn’t realise that therapy would become an incredible tool of self-discovery and deep introspection for me. I have no plans of stopping anytime soon and I wish I had started it 10 years ago. I would have never seen a therapist if I didn’t have so much free time and somehow, I think this was meant to happen before I start the next stage of my life, as the CEO and founder of my brand.
Independence Day came one day late. After one hundred and thirty-three days of chemotherapy, on the fifth of July, the date of my last infusion arrived, and I went out with a fire cracking bang. Literally. One thing breast cancer has taught me is that everything should be celebrated. Big or small, it doesn’t matter. Throw your hands up and party hard.
For my last infusion, I had a Bye B*tch party and I’m sure I shocked the hospital staff (even though they joined us in the end). A bunch of friends came, and I had bamboo fans and a cake made. Amidst a sea of pink balloons and shimmery Mardi Gras-style necklaces, bubbles popping in fizzy grape juice, and my customised ‘I’m kicking cancer’s a** playlist, I was filled with gratitude, pride, and a sense of euphoria for reaching the finish line.
I was saying bye to chemo, the struggles I endured for the past seven months, and parts of me that died along with the cancer cells. I also knew I’d soon be saying hello again to social media, and I made sure everyone took a bunch of pictures and videos for me. If I were to pick a card from my tarot deck, it would be the 3 of Cups. The card is very special to me and features three women dancing in a circle holding chalices. It represents joy, celebration, healing, and community.
At the end of my infusion, I got to *finally* ring the bell, Selling Sunset style. I went a little too hard because I broke it. Let’s just say it was a major LOL moment that had my friends texting me for days afterwards. One even texted me a photo of bells she saw later at a restaurant and said she’d never look at them again without thinking of me. My nurse, who’d been with me throughout my infusions, assured me it’s happened before, but my son said that she was just being nice. I was the one and only. Somehow it fits.
Breaking that bell symbolises so much. I am determined to never, ever go back. I’m only looking forward. I’m not out of the woods yet, I still have 25 rounds of radiation to go through over five weeks. I also have scans and mammograms in my future in addition to taking a medication called Tamoxifen for five years. This medicine will help prevent the breast cancer from coming back. It has its side effects, but I know now, more than ever, that I can handle whatever comes my way. Breast cancer will always be part of my life’s story. This experience has been the biggest and most challenging test of my life, and I am a warrior in every sense. With my spirit rooted in hope and determination, my identity shaped by breast cancer’s challenges and my victories, I’m ready to embrace my future with courage and optimism.
As I’m typing this, I’m sitting in my home office 15 kgs heavier than I was just seven months ago with three eyelashes left on my right eye, a few hairs growing on my bald head and a lingering acne breakout peppered all over my complexion. I hate the way I look but here I am, alive with my husband and children. I’m ready to share my story. I just found out that Shannen Doherty, only 53 years old and of millennial TV show 90210 and Charmed fame, passed away after a nine-year battle with breast cancer. This disease is far too prevalent. As I put the final touches on my beauty brand and prepare for its launch, I know that infused into the core of my beauty brand is a mission to help spread awareness about this disease to help save other women’s lives. I’m not sure how exactly I’ll do it, but I’m going to make it happen.
I did the right thing by following my gut feelings and keeping my journey through my diagnosis, surgeries, and chemotherapy off social media. Prioritising my well-being and concentrating on my needs gave me the sacred space to connect with my true self and nurture my soul while healing. This period of introspection has also added a more profound depth to my beauty brand. I feel sheer gratitude for my medical team, my husband who came to every single appointment and infusion with me, the support of my kids, family, friends, and mostly for myself. Without my determination, positive attitude, and perseverance, I wouldn’t have gotten through this ordeal. The future is bright and there’s still life to live after diagnosis. I am surrounded by an abundance of emotional support, love, happiness despite life’s challenges, and peace. I’m having a 10 of Cups moment.
Follow Lauren’s journey on planetlauren.com, her Instagram account, and YouTube channel.