When I Learned I Would Need Chemotherapy

By Kelly Rovetto, Founder of Re-Femme

When I first heard the words, “You’re going to need chemotherapy,” my stomach dropped. It was as if time slowed down — and in that moment, everything I thought I knew about myself started to blur.

I wasn’t just afraid of being sick. I was afraid of looking sick. The thought of losing my hair, my lashes, my brows — all the things that had quietly made me feel like me — filled me with a kind of fear I’d never felt before. I couldn’t picture myself without them. I couldn’t picture feeling beautiful again.

What no one tells you in those early days is that chemotherapy doesn’t just strip away your strength — it strips away your sense of femininity. Your reflection changes before your eyes. And for many women, it’s not vanity. It’s identity.

But something shifted when I began to open up to other women — especially survivors who had already walked this road. They didn’t sugarcoat it. They told me the truth: that the fear is real, the emotions are heavy, and yet, somehow, they found a way to rebuild. I remember one woman saying, “You’ll lose your hair, but not your beauty. You’ll lose control, but not yourself.”

That community — women who truly understood — became my lifeline. My friends and family surrounded me with love, but it was the survivors who helped me see what was possible beyond treatment. They shared the small things that helped them feel whole again — the gentle shampoo that soothed their scalp, the soft wrap that made them feel beautiful, the perfect brow pencil that gave them back a bit of confidence on the hardest days.

That experience planted the seed for Re-Femme. I wanted to create a place where women could find comfort, confidence, and connection through every stage of cancer — and not have to face the overwhelm of figuring it all out alone.

Re-Femme exists to do exactly that: to provide survivor-vetted, treatment-safe products that help women feel more like themselves again — body, mind, and spirit. It’s more than a registry; it’s a reminder that beauty doesn’t end with diagnosis, and that sisterhood can carry us through even the darkest chapters.

If you’re reading this and facing chemotherapy for the first time, I want you to know this:
You are still you. You are still beautiful. And you are not alone.