In July 2023, I heard words I never imagined would be directed at me: You have breast cancer.
I had noticed my nipple was inverted about a year before my diagnosis, but like so many people, I brushed it off. I figured it was nothing. During a routine wellness visit through my employer, my doctor noticed and told me directly, “That’s not normal.” He sent me for a mammogram.
The mammogram was uncomfortable in ways I can’t fully describe. I gained a whole new level of respect for every woman who goes through it, but at the time, I still thought, “It’s probably nothing. I’m a man. Men don’t get breast cancer.”
After the mammogram, they immediately performed an ultrasound. That’s when the fear started to creep in. A few days later, I was scheduled for a biopsy, one of the most nerve-racking experiences of my life.
The results came quickly: Stage 1 ER-positive breast cancer, pressed up against my nipple. They told me I would lose my nipple no matter what. The news hit harder than I expected. I kept thinking about my family history, the long line of relatives who had battled breast cancer, and I was certain I’d test positive for the BRCA gene. But when the results came back negative, I felt even more confused. How could this be happening?
My surgeon gave me options: a lumpectomy or a double mastectomy. Because of my family history, he strongly recommended the double mastectomy to prevent recurrence. I agreed, but I’ll be honest with you, I didn’t realize what I was truly agreeing to. No one told me how much of my chest I would lose, or how much that would impact my sense of self.
Since then, I’ve had one fat grafting procedure and nipple tattoos. They’ve helped me heal, physically and emotionally, but some scars can’t be hidden. As a man, losing the shape and strength of my chest, something I once took pride in, has been a harder loss than I ever expected. There are days when I still catch my reflection and feel a wave of grief.
But there are also days when I feel incredibly proud. Proud that I listened to my body. Proud that I spoke up. Proud that I fought.
Breast cancer doesn’t care if you’re a man or a woman. It doesn’t matter how strong you think you are. I learned the hard way that cancer doesn’t discriminate. That’s why I share my story now to tell every man out there: check your body. Check your pecs. Pay attention. And if something feels wrong, say something.
Early detection saved my life.
It could save yours too.