Finding Connection, Confidence, and New Friends at an LGFB Workshop

October 26, 2026

The smell of broth is what I remember most about my childhood home. I’m the daughter of Southeast Asian immigrant parents, raised in Montréal. Growing up, health was such a big part of our lives. My mom is really into Chinese medicine and naturopathic health. She would make us broths and herbal teas. We had the kind of healthy lifestyle habits that made illness seem like something that happened to other families, not ours.

When I moved out of my parents’ home, I stopped drinking broth because I never made it myself. But now, at age 38, broth is back in my life. My mom has been bringing me her homemade broths ever since I began treatment for triple-positive breast cancer (ER/PR+ and HER2+).

When I first felt something in my left breast, I thought it might be a clogged milk duct as I’d just finished breastfeeding my son. But when the lump didn’t go away after I finished lactating, I decided to book a mammogram. The doctor insisted that I didn’t need one, that I was too young to worry. I had to advocate for myself – I wanted the peace of mind, and I felt intuitively that something was wrong. 

At the time of my diagnosis, so many opportunities were coming my way in life, and I was saying yes to all of them. My career was thriving. I have a wonderful husband and our two boys, Mylo and Theo, the heartbeat of my life, were both in daycare. There was one thing, though – my health was taking a backseat.

What also shocked me was that there was no known history of breast cancer on either side of my family. I have seven aunts, and none of them have cancer. My grandma never had cancer. I thought this meant I’d never get cancer, but I was wrong.

I’ve completed chemotherapy, surgery, and radiation, and I’m now receiving a targeted treatment that combines an antibody with a chemotherapy drug. Even though I’ve come a long way, treatment is still challenging, especially mentally. Every time I sit in that infusion chair, I’m reminded, “Holy crap, I have cancer. I’m still here, receiving treatment for something I never imagined would happen to me.” I’ve had to develop a strong and resilient mindset to keep showing up, even on the hardest days. It’s not just about getting through the physical treatments, but also learning to live with the emotional weight of everything I’ve been through.

Through all this, Look Good Feel Better (LGFB) has been a lifeline. It was so important in helping me regain confidence and find community. I attended the makeup workshop and found it so reassuring. Having a professional teach me how to draw eyebrows was really helpful.

I also met two new friends that day. One was starting treatment a week after me and the other had just finished treatment and was a triple-negative breast cancer survivor. She was as young as me, and Asian – so I saw a bit of myself in her. I’ve kept in touch with both of these women ever since the workshop – just chatting, sharing information, supporting each other.

When I look back on my experience with LGFB, I think about how there was a lot of laughter at that workshop. We often associate cancer with sadness, but there sure was a lot of joy in that room.

These connections have meant a lot to me. Having friends and family checking in on me has been very important as well. And my kids keep me grounded. Thanks to them, I’ve been able to maintain a sense of normalcy. They need me, and they provide a routine.

Cancer has forced me to slow down in ways I never imagined. But along the way, it has also reminded me of the importance of human connection, kindness, and finding joy in unexpected places. What started as a simple makeup workshop became something much more meaningful: a reminder that even during life’s most difficult moments, there is still room for laughter, friendship, and hope.