the story.

Fall 2022

Miki was a freshman in high school when the call came: 8 p.m., the kind of late-hour ring that never brings any good news. She was at home, finishing her homework, while her parents were off at back-to-school night, walking through hallways she already knew, meeting teachers she’d already formed opinions about. She didn’t know, then, that her mom was sitting on a diagnosis, holding it close, deciding it was better to shoulder the weight alone. She didn’t know that while she was sighing over math problems or being grumpy about dinner, her mom was slipping out the door for a lumpectomy, radiation therapy, check-ups: one after the other, quietly, steadily. She didn’t know anything until it was over. Until she did. And then everything unraveled. The way grief sneaks up on you, even after the storm has supposedly passed. The way betrayal can exist even when no one meant to betray you. Fear. Confusion. A total loss of control. Miki sat with all of it, let it sink in, let it reshape her. And then, slowly, she started to reach for something else. She found that talking, really talking, about the things that hurt had a way of cracking something open and making space. She started asking questions, not just about her mom’s illness but about all the ways people navigate a life turned upside down. How do you keep going when nothing feels stable? How do you find a version of yourself that isn’t just built on fear? How do you take something terrifying and make it mean something? She wanted to know; she wanted to understand how ordinary people, people like her, like her mom, face the unthinkable and somehow come out on the other side. So she started looking. Listening. Asking. And in the process, she found something she hadn’t expected: purpose.

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Winter 2023

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Adore Your Buds is about pulling back the curtain. About stripping breast cancer stories down to their core, past the medical jargon, past the statistics, past the weight of the diagnosis itself, until all that’s left are the people, the raw emotions, the way adversity shifts and shapes a person. We all fear uncertainty, but here, we try to peel back the layers and understand it, not merely the science, but by sitting with the everyday moments that linger long after the treatments end. The hesitations. The triggers. The changes that seep into the smallest details of a life. At AYB, we step into stories. The ones told by those who lived through it. The ones held by the people who stood beside them. The ones who passed. We believe that the only way to truly see breast cancer is to immerse ourselves in the lives of those willing to share. So we dive in, carefully, respectfully, piecing together something that feels whole, and real.

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Onward

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With the idea of creative expression in mind, AYB was established in 2024 to understand the disease on a narrative level of breast cancer through outlets of the lens, the voice, and the words of individuals who desire to share. just as flower buds embrace themselves and the support of sunlight and water in order to grow into a beautiful flower, AYB welcomes the experiences of one's breast cancer experience, encourages reflection and connection between individuals, and fosters growth in seeing disease anecdotes as something more beautiful to embrace. to make an impact in taking one step closer to fully demystifying the disease, AYB puts a creative spin onto breast cancer awareness, as well as hopes to emphasize how gen z and gen alpha can strive to make impacts too.