Dubai breast cancer survivor Lauren O’Connell gets real: 'If you can handle Botox, you can handle a mammogram'

Dubai: Forget the pink cupcakes and cutesy slogans. For Dubai-based beauty blogger and author Lauren O’Connell, breast cancer awareness isn’t about pretty ribbons—it’s about raw truth, survival, and the real work of self-love.

“I think there’s just so much 'pink-washing' that happens,” Lauren says, rolling her eyes at the endless parade of themed mocktails and merch. “We don’t really understand what breast cancer actually is.”

And if anyone has earned the right to call out the fluff, it’s her. Diagnosed in 2023, Lauren endured four rounds of the infamous “Red Devil” chemotherapy—a treatment so brutal that even her oncologist agreed she couldn’t take another dose.

“It’s red in color and the side effects are horrendous,” she recalls.

“After round four, I said, ‘If you give me any more, I don’t think I’m going to live."

Lauren tried cold capping—a process that freezes hair follicles to minimise loss—but within three weeks of her first infusion, 85% of her hair was gone.

“I shaved my head,” she says.

“It felt like chemo was taking another thing from me. But then I realised I love the low maintenance of a bald head." She was speaking on the sidelines of the Pink breakfast hosted by Sakshi Nath, founder of Queens beauty lounge at Tresind, One& Only royal mirage.

For those wondering, her hair is now a neat bob. But it's that disarming humor and resilience that make Lauren magnetic. She refuses to treat her illness like a tragedy.

“I saw breast cancer as an adventure. Not one I signed up for, but one I was going to make the best of,” she says.

In a culture where illness especially the c-word is often spoken in hushed tones, Lauren broke the silence—starting at home.

“My parenting style has always been to be open. My kids can ask me anything,” she says. She waited until after Christmas to tell them about her diagnosis.

“They got everything on their Christmas list that year,” she laughs. “Because I knew bad news was coming.”

Her children didn’t just watch her fight—they joined it.

“They shaved my head for me. They went to chemo when they didn’t have school. They saw me cry, suffer, and thrive. It made them stronger, too.”

When most people equate strength with silence, Lauren flips the script. “Reaching out for help is an act of self-respect,” she insists.

“We’re taught to be people-pleasers, to not ask for help. But during breast cancer, you need help. You can’t do it alone.”

Her husband, she says, was her rock—present at every appointment, every blood draw, every moment.

“It’s shocking how many women tell me their husbands left them during treatment. I’m lucky mine was all in,” she says, quietly grateful.

Her 14-year-old daughter who studies in grade 10 along with her son was also a part of her healing journey.

Lauren didn’t hide her journey—she chronicled it online, transforming her social media from a beauty feed into a powerful space of healing. “I’ve always been a beauty blogger.

But after chemo, I needed to protect my energy,” she says. “When I was ready, I started talking. The response was incredible. Women from all over—newly diagnosed, survivors of 15 years—reached out.”

She pauses, smiling. “I don’t know what it is yet, but I feel like I’ve started something.”

Lauren leaves us with advice that’s as fierce as it is frank:

Lauren O’Connell is proof that courage doesn’t always look polished—it sometimes looks bald, sweaty, and sarcastic. But it’s the kind of courage that saves lives.

“Life is long,” she says.

“And the point is to live it—fully, fearlessly, and with a mammogram booked.”