It’s October. Pink Ribbon month. Pinktober it’s called.
Now I have to tread really carefully here as I may offend. But I’m going there anyway. And yes, you’ll say I’m judging. And no, I fortunately haven’t had breast cancer, or have been personally affected by it. But I did work in advertising, so just may be able to comment from another point of view.
Cancer is a multi, multi billion dollar business. Yes, a business. Have you ever stopped and thought to ask where ALL that money goes? If we prevented cancer, heavens, hosts of people would be out of a job. And some of those (by all means not all) have a vested interest in maintaining the status quo.
I’m going to pose something different. What if we could simply prevent breast cancer? Full stop. Not with a vaccine. But with careful, diligent, consistent and fierce self love. For it takes courage to rise above the fear, the genetic inevitability, the collective grief that precipitates cancer.
And it requires us to speak up. LOUDLY.
When we sublimate ourselves, bend to others’ wishes, are afraid of rocking the boat, and accept the status quo, our feminine power shrivels. And so do we. When we bend to advertisers, and wish our breasts behaved differently, we weaken the defences of our cells and invite cancer in. When we douse ourselves in chemicals in the name of beauty, we open ourselves to toxic penetration. We surrender our bodies to brands that really just want to make sales.
And at the cost of your cancer. Their parasitic behaviour gets pink washed. Brands that wear the Pink Ribbon are doing it for the sake of conspicuous compassion, so we’ll all go, oh aren’t they lovely. Particularly cosmetic companies whose products contain carcinogens. Yes, but you’ll have to read the fine print to know that one.
Please have a look at this link. It’s a film we all need to see. I thank them.
To be well, gloriously well and vibrant, we have to let go of our stuff. Our resentment, our grief, our deep seated anger, our need to be perfect, our need to be seen, our addiction to judgement and our need to placate. Wellness comes from setting boundaries. From digging deep and saying no. From standing our ground and opening our hearts so wide we feel we may burst. And from being grateful for just the most simple of things. For just the privilege of being alive. It’s about being kind, connecting down deep and bringing that forth. It’s about living an inspired life that leaves others smiling. That touches hearts, that isn’t afraid of what people think. And that isn’t afraid to nurture with big LOVE. And that softly cups our breasts to our hearts and gives thanks for their form. Their softness, pendulous, small rounded, big mounded beauty. Their companionship. Their life giving milk. Their life giving hugs. Their quirky behaviour, their longstanding loyalty. And vulnerable, gorgeous power.
So before you spend another cent on Pink Ribbons, stand still. Look behind the hype, the ‘hope’ to what is really being said. And break away. And stand your ground. And vow to be a different example. Teach our daughters that vibrant wellness comes from living our truth, from holding our chests high and from celebrating our female form, in all its glory. With Love.