Catherine Gigante-Brown

At the New York City release party for Dayna Kurtz’ latest, Rise and Fall, my friend Nadia leaned over to me and whispered, “Why the fuck

I’m boycotting you until you start recognizing breast cancer survivors like me by carrying mastectomy bras.

"Remember, this isn’t just happening to you, it’s happening to moms everywhere. It’s not your fault — "

herbalist. shiatsu practitioner. healer.

If the odds of getting cancer are like Powerball, why couldn't I be a scratch-off millionaire?

I fumbled with my lace bra, hoping my silicone form wouldn't fall out from the left cup. I wasn't exactly ready . . . yet I was.

"Sometimes David wore his hair spiked like a cockscomb. Others, he wore it feathery like a baby chick. He wore his Mohawk to summer camp (exchanging encouraging head chucks with another older camper who sported one, too) and even to Vacation Bible School—no judgment there."

Re-imagining the cervix, preserving the earth, facing breast cancer a whole new way…Annie Sprinkle’s wisdom abounds. “Life is a performance art piece,” she said...

I was 21 –– a Catholic, heterosexual college student, living at home in Brooklyn and still trying to discover who I was. At the crossroads of her life, Lorde knew exactly who she was. She was waging a war against cancer and sharing an old house in Staten Island with her kids and partner. But maybe we weren’t so different after all.

The office cubicle is indeed a strange bird. Here's how to survive life in a box without driving you—or your office mates—crazy.