Pink Is Not a Cure! by Nancy Stordahl

I am so pleased to have Nancy Stordahl here today. Because my mother had breast cancer and because virtually all of our lives are touched by it in one way or another, I tend to think the more we know about it, the better. I hope you'll not only read this post, but follow Nancy's blog and check out her books as well. My apologies for the fonts being kind of weird; Blogger and I are fighting again, and it always wins. Thanks for reading. Have a good week. Be nice to somebody. - Liz

It’s October again, and you know what that means—pink and pink ribbons start popping up everywhere. Yep. Breast Cancer Awareness Month (BCAM) is upon us again, or as some refer to it—and not in an endearing sort of way—Pinktober.

Do you ever wonder why some people can’t seem to get enough of pink and pink ribbon paraphernalia and others cringe at all things pink during Breast Cancer Awareness Month?

Do you ever feel confused by the controversy and wonder if you’re supposed to pick a side?

All this “pinking” is a good thing, you might be thinking. The more pink and the more pink ribbons the better, right? 

Doesn’t all this pinking mean more awareness? 

Isn’t any kind of awareness a good thing?

Maybe. But maybe not.

To be clear, there is nothing wrong with the color pink. Pink is just a color. It’s actually one of my favorites, just not so much during October. There is nothing wrong with ribbons; they’re just ribbons. Pink ribbons are okay too—until they’re not.

Somewhere along the line, pink ribbons morphed into a successful marketing tool. In fact, pink ribbons turned into a marketing goldmine used to increase not only profits but a company’s image as well. Talk about bang for your buck—I mean ribbon.

Just when you think you’ve seen it all, another gizmo, gadget, or product adorned in pink comes down the pike. You realize you were wrong and that there’s even more where that came from.

If you can eat it, drink it, play with it, wear it, hammer with it, bake with it, travel in it, or even put your trash in it; there’s probably a pink version of whatever it is available and waiting for your purchase at one of your friendly local retailers.

Somehow, breast cancer and shopping became intertwined, or maybe more aptly put, tangled up.

I’ve been asking the same question for years now: Why is breast cancer the shopping disease anyway?

We aren’t shopping to cure prostate cancer, heart disease, or diabetes, are we?

So, again, why is breast cancer the shopping disease?

I don’t have the definitive answer, but I think it might have something to do with a certain part of the female anatomy by which it is easy to grab attention, and then, access to people’s wallets. 

Which leads us to the next problem some, including me, have with much of the pink nonsense—sexualization and trivialization of a still too often deadly disease.  

Call me a wet blanket (I’ve been called worse), but I don’t find it amusing when I see photos of dogs wearing balloon breasts, bras strung across yards, or rocks painted to look like breasts. And don’t get me started on saving the tatas, boozing it up for boobs, grabbing a feel, saving ‘em all - big and small, and the list goes on and on. 

Nothing about breast cancer is pink, pretty, or party-like. Period.

Some say, well, you have to lighten things up to get people’s attention. To that, I say, uh-uh, no you don’t, and I also ask, why should we?

People deserve better. And, they deserve complete, honest messaging.

Breast cancer remains a still too often deadly disease. This year roughly 42,000 women AND men are expected to die from metastatic breast cancer. It might surprise you to hear that this is a number that hasn’t changed much over the last decade+. 

Metastatic breast cancer has, in fact, too often been swept under the rug during all the pink hoopla of BCAM and not talked about much, if at all. Think about it. How many times have you heard about stage 4 breast cancer during BCAM? Not that many, right? No, usually, the focus is on pink fluff. 

Thankfully, this is changing, but ever so slowly. 

We must ask, what took so long?

And that, Readers, brings us to the third problem with all this pinking—the messaging during BCAM has been too simplified as well. Many people think breast cancer isn’t so bad these days. I kid you not, it’s still often referred to as the “good cancer.”

Believe me, even if you’re “lucky” and never experience metastasis, breast cancer is still a life-altering disease. It is not an over and done deal. If only…

Another message that has, for the most part, failed to get out is that men can, and sometimes do, get breast cancer too. How do you think men with breast cancer feel during Pinktober? I’d dare to say, many feel left out.

So, to sum things up, the three problems, as I see it anyway, with Pinktober that have continued for decades now are: marketing misuse and/or misrepresentation, trivialization and sexualization, and incomplete messaging.

What can YOU do to make a difference?

We can’t just throw our hands up and think, what’s the use, or what can I do?

Each of us can make a difference. YOU can make a difference.

But how? 

Here are a few ideas:

1. First of all, get informed about breast cancer reality. Learn the facts, and talk about metastatic disease too. After all, awareness without mets awareness isn’t awareness at all.

2. Share what you learn whenever the opportunity arises. Start a conversation.

3. Speak up when something looks phony, offensive, or gimmicky.

4. Before you buy something pink or with pink ribbons, ask these questions: (Source Breast Cancer Action:)

• Does any money from this purchase go to support breast cancer programs? How much?

• What organization will get the money? What will they do with the funds, and how do these programs turn the tide of the breast cancer epidemic?

• Is there a “cap” on the amount the company will donate? Has this maximum donation already been met? Can you tell?

• Does this purchase put you or someone you love at risk for exposure to toxins linked to breast cancer? (pinkwashing)

5. Perhaps one of the easiest things to do is to give a donation to your favorite breast cancer charity—hopefully, one dedicated to research and a focus on metastatic disease. Doing this is a win-win for everyone, well, except maybe for those businesses trying to rake in extra cash without doing much, if anything, in return that actually makes a difference.

All this is not to say, don’t buy something with a pink ribbon on it, but rather, don’t buy something just because it has one. Big difference. And buy it after you’ve asked the above questions, too, of course.

After all, pink is not a cure. 

A cure, or at least better, less harsh treatments and better survival odds for those with metastatic disease, will only come through research—not ribbons.

I’ll close with a favorite advocacy quote from the late Barbara Brenner:

“If breast cancer could be cured by shopping, it would be cured by now.”

Amen to that.

Nancy Stordahl is a former educator. She’s been writing candidly about breast cancer, pink ribbon shenanigans, hereditary cancer, loss and grief, pets, and family for over a decade on her popular blog NancysPoint.com. Stop by and browse around.

Nancy is the author of the new book, Emerging: Stories from the Other Side of a Cancer Diagnosis, Loss, and a Pandemic. Find it on Amazon and other online booksellers.

Her other books are: Getting Past the Fear: A Guide to Help You Mentally Prepare for Chemotherapy and Cancer Was Not a Gift & It Didn’t Make Me a Better Person. Both are available on Amazon.

Follow Nancy’s Point on Facebook, X, Instagram, and TikTok.

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Once again, refusing to jump onto the “everything happens for a reason" bandwagon, Nancy Stordahl tackles tough topics like cancer, loss, and the COVID-19 pandemic with unflinching honesty while dismantling the back to normal myth. As readers of "Nancy's Point" and her memoir, Cancer Was Not a Gift & It Didn't Make Me a Better Person, have come to expect, she crafts a poignant, personal narrative while weaving in validation, comfort, and encouragement to readers who are coping with their own challenges, whatever those might be.

Never one to sugarcoat the breast cancer experience, Stordahl examines words such as mastectomy and lumpectomy, calling them out as inadequate and minimizing. She shares candidly about reconstruction decisions and why she opted for DIEP flap surgery at ten years post diagnosis, highlighting the on-going experience that breast cancer is. She sheds light on judging that still goes on regarding choices women make and why survivor guilt is so common in Cancer Land.

Stordahl asks hard questions that many grapple with such as: Why do we avoid talking about death and grief, and why do we hesitate to even use the "D" words? What does it feel like to become parentless? Why does saying goodbye to our beloved pets hurt so much? And, why are we so often expected to just move on from hard things?

Emerging also touches on the universal themes of aging, making tough decisions, resiliency, and self-acceptance. Advice offered is realistic, straight-forward, and helpful. Stordahl reminds us we needn't pressure ourselves to emerge from any life challenge as new and improved versions of our former selves. Instead, she shines light on a kinder, gentler path to recovery and self-acceptance.

Emerging is a refreshing, encouraging read for anyone who has struggled, or is struggling, with one of life's challenges - a book you'll want to keep handy to read again and again.