Photo on 8-3-16 at 13.31 #2

One cancer survivor wrote and told me that she is offended by this “rich girl” photograph of mine.

She said that it demoralised her and other cancer sufferers, as well as put them under pressure to look like this. What am I trying to sell? She questioned my motives of posting hot photographs of myself.

My only motive is to show that there is life after the worst period in your life. You don’t have to be angry, bitter and miserable just because life had dealt you a bad blow. I picked myself up, by the grace of God, and started all over again from bottom rung. It could easily have been the other way – I could have continued hating, being angry, being bitter.


What about for those who do not make it? Being unhappy does not make your remaining days on earth better. It is not easy; life is never fair. Fifteen years ago, I started chemotherapy when my youngest child was just one year old.  I have received hundreds of emails from those who have survived and from those who do not think they will survive. This time round, I won the lottery for life. Maybe I will not be so lucky the fourth time round (yes, I had cancer three times – we never know). I think about death everyday. If you go through this blog, you will see many posts on this subject. Get use to it. I am about to visit a friend who has terminal illness.

When I thought I was dying in November, I distanced myself from my children and my parents. I hid out in my aunt’s house in London. This was my preparation for the goodbye. I strongly believe I got over it because (1) I was lucky this time and (2) because I let go of fear. When (2) happens, my biochemistry started correcting itself instead of being under the influence of fear hormones all the time. As my old boss in Jakarta said, doctors do not save lives, they only prevent it for another day. We all die. It’s HOW we live.

So here is me in unflattering light, no make up.  I did not lose the whole head; I only lost hair around my face and at the back of my head.  The wispy bits around my face are beginning to grow back, though as you can easily see, it is still thin. The bald patches are still visible. My partner sometimes tell me to turn another way when he takes photographs of me because that hated bald patches are showing.

I hate the bald patches (because I am vain), but am learning to accept them. My partner, thank God for him, tells me that they are my battle scars and they make me all the more precious to him. I do not think my hair will ever recover, just as I will probably never look as good as I once did, but that is life, right? Be happy, not angry.

Life is not fair and it is never going to be. Raging against it achieves nothing. Don’t be a Hater.

Photo on 8-13-16 at 19.11 #2