My diagnosis changed everything. It shook my sense of safety, my plans, and my understanding of my own body. Overnight I went from being someone who supported others to someone who needed support myself. In those early moments, I felt fear—but I also felt determination. I knew that if I survived, I wanted to make sure no woman in Japan would ever feel alone, uninformed, or unseen on her breast-health journey.
Going through treatment was a test of strength I never expected to face. Chemotherapy, surgeries, recovery—each step forced me to confront both vulnerability and resilience. There were days when my body felt foreign, when the fatigue was overwhelming, and when uncertainty loomed large. But I also discovered hope in unexpected places: in the kindness of medical staff, in the quiet support of friends, and in the unwavering love of my family. Surviving breast cancer didn’t just save my life; it reframed it. It taught me the power of community, information, and early detection. And it ignited a responsibility in me.
When I moved to Japan, I was struck by the silence surrounding breast cancer. Women rarely talked about it openly. Awareness materials were limited. Many women didn’t know what screening options existed, and some felt cultural pressure to face health challenges privately. Early on, I spoke with women who avoided screenings out of fear, embarrassment, or a belief that breast cancer “wouldn’t happen to them.” Hearing these stories reminded me of my own early fears—and strengthened my resolve.
I founded RFTC Japan because I knew Japan needed a space where awareness, education, and compassion could thrive. I wanted to create a platform that brought women together, encouraged honest conversations, and provided lifesaving information. The idea was simple: empower women with knowledge, encourage early detection, and support those navigating treatment and survivorship. What began as a personal mission slowly grew into a community movement.
Our signature events—especially Pink Ball and our annual runs—are more than fundraisers. They are celebrations of life, courage, and unity. They honor survivors, remember those we’ve lost, and energize the fight for a future where breast cancer is detected early and treated effectively. Every time I see a survivor cross a finish line or watch families gather in pink to show their support, I’m reminded of why this work matters.
Today, RFTC Japan stands as a testament to the belief that one person’s experience can spark change. My breast cancer journey could have ended with survival alone—but I chose to transform it into purpose. I started this foundation so no woman in Japan would face breast cancer in silence. Awareness saves lives, and together, we are rewriting what it means to face this disease—with strength, community, and hope.

Vickie Paradise Green
Chair, Run for the Cure® Foundation Japan