Single and Dating ― After a Double Mastectomy

Single and Dating ― After a Double Mastectomy


What to do if you’re single and diagnosed with breast cancer? Start a blog, name it Double Whammied and reveal the truth of treatment and recovery on your own.

Single and Dating ― After a Double Mastectomy

The Birth of Venus by Sandro Botticelli.

Editor’s Note: Diane Mapes is one of my all-time favorite “singular” writers. Her sharp wit, fierce independence and wicked humor couldn’t be more on target for Singular magazine. Undergoing a double mastectomy in 2011, Diane is now also a voice for single women dealing with breast cancer. At her blog, Double Whammied, Diane reveals, with painful honesty, the challenges of coping with her diagnosis, her treatment and her recovery. “The girls” may be gone, but her wit and insight remain ever vibrant, compelling and frank. Below is just one entry. For more, please visit her blog.

I got a great question from one of my readers named Vanessa the other day about a subject that’s near and dear to my (dark, dysfunctional) heart: dating after breast cancer.

“When you start dating someone,” she asked, “how do you tell the person? When do you tell them? Any advice is greatly appreciated.”

As it turns out, I was just interviewed by Judy McGuire (aka the Date Girl columnist for the Seattle Weekly) about this very topic. I’ve also written a reported piece about dating with breast cancer for’s online magazine Happen, and talked about what it was like for me trying to date while going through treatment in my essay, Love in the Time of Chemotherapy.

Post-surgery, post-chemo, post-radiation and getting ready to go out with my war paint and prostheses (November 2011). Fake it till you make it, baby.
Post-surgery, post-chemo, post-radiation and getting ready to go out with my war paint and prostheses (November 2011). Fake it till you make it, baby.

I guess all of these dating stories, plus the fact that I used to write the Single Shot column for the now-defunct Seattle P-I, and have also written a funny dating manual “How to Date in a Post-Dating World,” is why one of my BC buddies on Twitter started referring to me as the “Carrie Bradshaw of breast cancer.”

Jeez, now that I think of it, I even have my own Mr. Big.

But back to Vanessa’s question about the hows and the whens of telling a date about your breast cancer.

I’ve done quite a bit of dating this past year, despite the surgery, the chemo, the radiation and the challenges of post-treatment “Limboland.” Some of the guys already knew about the breast cancer, which made the “big reveal” a moot point. Others — like the men I’ve met on online dating sites — didn’t have a clue, namely because I work hard at what I call “passing,” i.e., looking as normal as possible.

What does that mean? It means no pajamas, no pallor, no cancer beanie — instead they (and everyone else) get skinny jeans and black boots, and maybe a vintage leopard coat. I sometimes feel like a drag queen getting ready to go out in the world, especially when I’m getting ready for a date. First, there’s the wig (made of my own hair), then there’s my gummi boobs (tucked into a pocketed Spanx black bra), then there’s the makeup, in particular my painted-on eyebrows. (Thanks to Laura Mercier eyebrow powder and a Bartell’s eyebrow brush, no one knows my eyebrows were lost to chemo.) During rads, I even wore my V-neck shirts backwards — Audrey Hepburn style — so no one would see the radiation burns.

In a nutshell, I do whatever I can to look like a happy, healthy, stylish 42-year-old. FYI, I’m also trying to “pass” with regard to age — I’m actually 53.

Anyway, I can usually get away without telling a guy about the breast cancer for 2 or 3 dates (by then, I’ll know if I want to see them again and whether I need to bother telling them).

Unless, of course, they try to kiss me. That’s when things get dicey, mainly because a lot of guys will try to grab the back of your head when they move in, which means they’ll feel the wig cap and know something’s up. I even had one guy try to run his fingers through my hair at the end of the date to tell me how pretty it was.

Home from a date in my vintage leopard coat. The coat’s faux fur, but the wig is made from my own hair! November 2011.
Home from a date in my vintage leopard coat. The coat’s faux fur, but the wig is made from my own hair! November 2011.

“Next time I see you, I’ll tell you a secret about my hair,” I told him as I jumped out of the car, sensing a bit of confusion on his part. (Did the wig shift? Did he feel the cap? I don’t know, but I did tell him about the breast cancer on our next date and we’re still in touch).

As for specifics about the “how to tell him” question? A lot of times, I’ll start by asking the guy if he’s Googled me, since I’ve written about my breast cancer in some pretty high profile places (sometimes I wonder if I’m trying to tell every single guy in the country at once so I won’t have to go through the reveal date by date). Most often, they haven’t, so then I’ll usually try to find an appropriate moment (i.e., once they’ve started drinking) and then basically just blurt it out.

I don’t think there’s any right or wrong way to do it, but if you can tie it in somehow with something they’ve told you (like a friend who’s been through a health scare or a recent health situation of their own), that can make it easier.

I usually don’t go into too many details, i.e., no gruesome stories about chemo or surgery or anything like that. I’ll just stick to the basics, i.e., “Sorry to hear about your knee surgery; I just went through this whole breast cancer thing last year myself.” After that, I’ll usually tell them I’m wearing a wig because of the chemo. And will sometimes tell them I’ve lost my girls but will be getting them back after reconstruction. Sometimes, I don’t even go there, though, since some men get too caught up in the whole boob thing (I had one guy not only ask when exactly I was getting the reconstruction but how big my new boobs were going to be).

Looking coquettish in Dallas in April 2011 with my real hair making a triumphant return.
Looking coquettish in Dallas in April 2011 with my real hair making a triumphant return.

The best news, I’ve found, is that talking about your breast cancer with a potential romantic partner is not the end of the world. I’ve had a couple of stinkers who have slunk off into the shadows (they weren’t boyfriend material anyway and I was delighted to be rid of them). And I’ve had some guys ask dumb questions, like that old fave: “Soooooo, what are your odds?”

The majority of the guys, though (and we’re talking maybe a dozen or so), have responded very positively overall. I mean, they’re sorry that I had to go through this crap, but they’re not daunted by the fact that I don’t have boobs or long hair or that there may be another cancer scare — or a shortened expiration date — in my future.

A couple of men with whom I’ve gotten closer to have even seen me without the wig and are not only completely cool with the fact that I don’t really have long hair, they think I look cute as hell with short, short hair. So there you go.

Maybe it’s the fact that I’ve had nearly a year to process this crap so I’m much more comfortable with it. Maybe it’s my matter-of-fact (dare I say confident?) attitude. Or who knows, maybe it’s that vintage leopard coat. Whatever the case, though, I’ve found that dating with cancer is totally doable.

Now if only we could find some guys with that same quality, eh Vanessa?


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7 thoughts on “Single and Dating ― After a Double Mastectomy

  1. I had a DM. I only weight 120 lbs, so I was only a B to begin with. Because l have low body fat there is too little tissue on chest cavity to work with. When I try to gain weight, I do not gain it over my chest at all. I am only eligible for reconstruction by having the tissue around the shoulder blades be brought around to where breasts would be; the end result would be a very small A. I would have scars around my shoulder blades, and this procedure may affect the movement of my arms. Then there is other concerns also associated with this procedure. I can’t see myself doing this procedure. I hate that I do not see myself dating because the end result of breast cancer has been very disfiguring. I am glad I survived. I now spend my time doing things for others and place priorities elsewhere other than dating.

  2. I am 64 and on the verge of going out on a date. I had my surgery in 2000 double mast. no reconstruction. I could not deal with more surgeries and tubes and hell. I was married, still am but the sad thing was my husband never could talk about it with me. Now we are separated and he has found a new girlfriend, we separated a year ago about 2014. Our relationship was a long train wreck so I am not blaming the separation on my b/c. I have met a couple nice men who I am seeing for the first time and I too was feeling that I would spend time with them and then decide when to tell them based on the chemistry. I thought my sex drive was a gonner as I had the requisite hysterectomy but I sense there is still something there. I didnt even miss it. But faced with a man in my life, I know the issue of sex will come up. Last night I finally talked to my former husband about it and he was receptive but didn’t know what to say. Just reading this has helped me alot, thanks!

  3. Great article! My story is similar to that of Samantha. My husband was gone before I returned from surgery in Atlanta. I made the mistake of letting him come over one evening after he claimed he’d drank too much at a nearby bar. He asked if he could come by and sober up before going home. It ended up being nothing more than curiosity. Could he deal with the new body? I learned a lot that night. But a lesson well learned. He was outta there! Now, two years later, I’m facing my first date. I’m struggling with self-esteem issues thanks to that night. But I’m not afraid to give a new life a chance. I’m so thankful for Diane’s article. I had no idea how or when to approach the subject…but at least now I have an idea. And most important of all, I don’t feel like the only one out there facing the same problem. Thanks Diane!

  4. I had a similar experience, only I was married. My husband split. Couldn’t handle it. Five years later, I’m just fine with losing both “the girls” and him! Thank you so much Diane for your blog. We need people like you to show us that there can be a happy ending, even though the road can be pretty bumpy sometimes!

  5. Thanks for sharing this Kim. I wish I could be as comfortable as Diane with some things that are so much easier.

  6. Loved this article and checked out the Double Wammied blog too. Fascinating, touching funny too. You have a great sense of humor Diane.

  7. Talk about making lemonade out of lemons! Thank you Diane for your honesty and being willing to share your feelings and experiences with the world.

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