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

A new U.S. Preventive Services Task Force recommendation on mammograms ensures more women will die of breast cancer.

I left Cuba in 1949, when I was 11 years old. Back then, I didn't understand why my mother sent me away. I still don't.

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

I thought cancer was behind me. Until I had a weird pain near my left ovary which lasted for several days. It felt a lot like ovulation...Only, at 56, that train had left the station a long time ago.

Makeup and I have always had a love/hate relationship: I love it; it hates me.

Wrinkles or lifelines? Chunky or curvaceous? The choice is yours.

Once upon a time, it was easier to keep track of gender. Today, not so much — the lines are blurred. For many, gender’s not so much about questioning your own identity as it is about questioning the very nature of identity.

At first, I felt like an abandoned ten-year-old, dropped off at a remote summer camp—with the extra added attraction of no cell phone reception or Wi-Fi. I thought the hardest part of the weekend was going to be picking out a robe. Boy, was I wrong!

I saw my present mother-in-law in a whole new light the first time she held my newborn son.