Lauren Sloan wasn’t a tattoo person. The North Royalton resident, a 43-year-old mother of two, never had any interest in getting inked — much less across the entirety of her chest.
But breast cancer changed the way she felt about her body. Diagnosed in 2019 with invasive ductal carcinoma, Sloan ultimately underwent chemotherapy, radiation and four surgeries, including a double mastectomy. The experience saved her life, but it also changed her body in an extremely short period of time.
“Looking in the mirror has been shocking and painful,” says Sloan. “I haven’t felt confident in myself like I used to.”
When she learned about Personal Ink, better known as P.ink, Sloan saw a way to regain control and rebuild her self-image. A project of the nonprofit organization Fuck Cancer, P.Ink partners with tattoo parlors in cities across the country to offer free chest tattoos to women who have had mastectomies. Their motto is, “Breast cancer doesn't have to leave the last mark.”
(Photo by David MacCluskie)
That appealed to Sloan, who was in search of new experiences that would help her continue to grow and heal after everything she’d been through.
“Nothing about the cancer experience is fun. It’s the antithesis of fun,” she says. “This opportunity felt refreshing because it’s fun. It’s different and unexpected in a positive way.”
Sloan was one of four applicants chosen to be tattooed on P.Ink Day Cleveland, which took place Oct. 4 at Voodoo Monkey. This year marked the Ohio City tattoo shop’s fourth time partnering with P.Ink.
“It's really nice for our team to be able to give something back to the community, rather than just business as usual,” says Voodoo Monkey owner Dave Stalter, who shut down the shop for the private event. “It’s very rewarding for us.”
Stalter, who did Sloan’s tattoo himself, matches his tattoo artists with P.Ink’s chosen recipients based on each woman’s style and design request. The pairs then work together in the weeks before the big day to come up with a final design that is unique and personally meaningful to each recipient.
Sloan, for example, chose an asymmetrical, lace-inspired tattoo that was intentionally reminiscent of lingerie. Timmery Foster, another P.Ink tattoo recipient, opted for an artistic rendering of a “tree of life” wrapped in a strand of DNA. Foster’s design represents her family history of breast cancer and is completed by two butterflies to honor her mother, who died at age 63 after breast cancer spread to her lungs.
(Photo by David MacCluskie)
“My mom always wore prosthetic breasts in public, but when she was on her deathbed, she told me she wished she’d gotten a badass chest tattoo instead,” says Foster, who traveled to Cleveland from Fenton, Michigan, to get inked. “I'm just doing what she always wanted to do.”
Before arriving at Voodoo Monkey, all four P.Ink recipients met up for breakfast at Le Petite Triangle so they could get to know one another and feel supported in their decision to get tattooed.
“It was great to talk and go through our stories and find that we have so much in common,” Sloan says, “especially because I don't know if I would have done this by myself.”
They were joined by Shannon Osborne, a professional project manager and P.Ink volunteer who serves as the organization’s main point of contact in Cleveland. It’s a role that might as well have been made for her, as Osborne herself is a breast cancer survivor who underwent a double mastectomy and a full range of treatment. She has a chest tattoo of her own.
“When I was done with my treatment experience, I felt a little bit battered,” Osborne recalls. “I realized that I wasn't looking at myself in the mirror anymore.”
(Photo by David MacCluskie)
It’s common for survivors to complete the breast reconstruction surgery process by getting realistic-looking nipple and areola tattoos. But Osborne, who didn’t yet know about P.Ink, wanted to do something different. She traveled to Richmond, Virginia, to get butterflies inked across her chest by an artist specializing in post-surgical tattoos.
“Breast cancer scars are pretty gnarly,” Osborne says, “but now my eye is drawn right to my tattoo instead.”
For Sloan, who has no other tattoos, that was the most compelling reason to apply to P.Ink Day Cleveland. Newly divorced and now in remission, she’s ready to step into the next phase of her life — one that isn’t a constant and negative reminder of the pain, fear and exhaustion of breast cancer.
“Now, when I look in the mirror, the last thing I see won’t be my scars,” Sloan says. “It will be something of my own choosing. It will be a piece of art.”
