What the f*ck, just happend?
After noticing a suspicious shadow in a selfie, Jen Rozenbaum's life became a rollercoaster. Yet by redefining her femininity and shamelessly documenting her journey, the spunky NY-based boudoir photographer and writer gave her breast cancer purpose, resulting in her bold and beautiful book: 'What the F*ck Just Happened? A Survivors Guide to Life After Breast Cancer.'
After noticing a suspicious shadow in a selfie, Jen Rozenbaum's life became a rollercoaster. Yet by redefining her femininity and shamelessly documenting her journey, the spunky NY-based boudoir photographer and writer gave her breast cancer purpose, resulting in her bold and beautiful book: 'What the F*ck Just Happened? A Survivors Guide to Life After Breast Cancer.'
At 41, Jen Rozenbaum was winning at life. A successful photographer, she had just given a TEDx talk about boudoir photography, encouraging women to be shamelessly feminine. The mother of two was also in great shape, looking after herself with yoga, green smoothies and regular mammograms. Breast cancer, discovered through a suspicious shadow in a selfie, hit Jen like a tornado. Now, seven years, a double mastectomy, the loss of her ovaries and a divorce later, Jen is not just surviving, she is thriving. How did she do it? We asked Jen to share some of her hard-earned pearls of wisdom with us.
What the f**k just happened? "The emotional shockwave of what you've been through doesn't hit you until the cancer treatment is over. And so, the hardest part is actually life after cancer. It's also the part nobody talks about. That's why I wrote 'What the f**k just happened?'. The most important thing to remember: healing from a trauma like breast cancer is not a linear process. There are days when you're going to feel energetic, feminine, and healthy. Some days just totally suck. And it's all okay. Denying yourself emotions only amplifies them. People will tell you you should be grateful to be alive. And you are! But I've learned that there is a huge difference between being alive and feeling alive. In order to feel alive, I needed to make changes. I started setting healthy boundaries and living more intentionally. I got divorced. Yes, cancer is lonely and scary, but if you're lucky, it also offers an opportunity to re-evaluate your life. And that is a huge gift wrapped in a big, red bow."
Hot pink Manolo Blahniks "What defines your femininity? On the morning of my mastectomy, I put on a pair of hot pink Manolo Blahnik high heels. It was my way of reminding myself that femininity doesn’t have to be defined by my breasts or even my body. I made a list of all the strengths and qualities I found in myself and the women I knew. They ranged from loving and spicy to strong and resilient - not one thing on the list had to do with anything physical! I realized that my femininity couldn't be taken by removing physical aspects of my body. And now I see that cancer has only amplified all of the qualities that define my femininity. My breasts, removed and reconstructed, are my daily reminder that I am resilient. I look down and know: I can do hard things. When I started dating again, I told each guy upfront that I had gone through a mastectomy. "So what?" every single one of them said. "You are beautiful because of it, not in spite of it."
Shamelessly feminine "My task as a boudoir photographer is creating a safe space for women to show up as they are. Whether that's in a leather jacket, a flowery dress or completely nude. Women are multifaceted, but we're told we have to choose. We can't possibly be sexy and smart, badass and sweet, all at the same time, right? Well, I believe we should celebrate all those different sides of ourselves. Let go of having to be picture perfect and embrace your so-called 'imperfections'. Give yourself permission to feel beautiful, even during or after a lifechanging experience like breast cancer. For me, that's what being 'shamelessly feminine' is all about."
Boobies on the internet "When I learned I was going to have a mastectomy, I was horrified by the gruesome pictures I found online. And I thought: I have a camera, my specialty is women's bodies, and I have breast cancer. This is no coincidence. And so, I documented my entire journey. Every single day. As scarring as it was, I wanted to remember everything because I knew it was going to change me. My very protective Jewish mother warned me: "Don't go showing your boobies all over the internet!" But I realized that if I went public, I could help other people through this journey. By giving my cancer purpose, I could turn it into a platform for empowerment. Without purpose, cancer is just a disease."
A kick in the ass "While I was going through chemotherapy, I photographed a three-time cancer survivor called Marianne. After complications from reconstruction, she had decided to go flat. I watched in admiration as she bared all, sharing what sexy meant to her now that she doesn't have breasts. When she left, I turned to my friend and make-up artist Diana and said: "Isn't she amazing? I wish I could be like her!" To which Diana replied: "Jen, you are like her!" At that moment, I was reminded that we it's hard to see ourselves the way others see us. Often, when I'm photographing women, they beat themselves up. With my pictures, I can show them how incredibly beautiful they look through my eyes. But it's also a good wake-up call: am I doing the same thing? Am I being fair to my body? Yes, even kick-ass women need a kick in the ass sometimes. We need to be kind to our selves and our bodies, always."
