Last year, about a month after I was diagnosed, the preschool I work for was having their fall picture day. All the teachers typically get their photo taken and we also like to do a group photo for all the staff. I had already undergone my first round of chemotherapy. Not only had I cut my hair in preparation for treatment side effects, the hair loss I was promised had already begun. Half of my hair had fallen out by then. When it was my turn for photos, embarrassment washed over me and I decided not to get my photo taken. I left, missing out on the group photo. But I also missed out on the chance to get a photo with my youngest. A part of me still regrets that I let my embarrassment over the way I looked stop me.

It’s hard not to dwell on the way my body and face have changed since this began. I can be awfully hard on myself, my own worst critic. But then I remind myself that my body is doing an amazing thing, fighting hard to stay alive, and winning so far. Dr. Ravi told me not to focus on how I look before this all started, told me that I was going to be battling for my life.

So, this year, I ignored the changes and the insecurities. I put on a nice sweater and a big smile. It was time to capture the warrior that I am now.

Take the picture. Do the thing. Make the memory. Don’t let shame or embarrassment or fear cause regret. What if you don’t get another chance?

Be brave. Smile wide. And focus on what matters: the memories, not the photos.