'When I was diagnosed with grade 3 breast cancer in May last year, a month after finding a lump on my breast, my mind immediately turned to my twin sister, Rebecca. She’s my best friend, the person I talk to about everything, so picking up the phone to her was a knee-jerk reaction. I was screaming and crying, yet she was calm and reassuring. "It’s going to be okay, Amy," she said. "I’m going to come to you now." She dropped everything at work in Wales and drove straight to my house to be with me. I’ll always be grateful for that.
Growing up, the two of us were inseparable. We did everything together, so when I wanted to start lessons at a local dance school, Rebecca naturally came along, too. I was the stressy, bossy, energetic one, forever making her practise with me and roping her and our older brother, Lloyd, into putting on dance shows for our parents. She was – and still is – the chilled, calm one, so she happily went along with it, but I think she’s glad I have other people to burn my energy on the dance floor with now!
We didn’t always have the easiest time growing up. I had health issues that were challenging for us both to deal with. I’ve suffered from Crohn’s disease since I was 11 and I’d have such bad attacks that I’d be sick and pass out from debilitating pain. I’d look at Rebecca and think, “Why me?” But she was always there, holding my hand at the hospital, and when I was too weak to look after myself, she’d wash me and brush my teeth for me. She never complained once. I was so proud when she later decided to go to university to train as a midwife, while I pursued my dream of being a professional dancer.
We’ve had so many highs together since then – I’ll never forget having Rebecca by my side as my maid of honour when I married my partner, Ben, in 2022. But, just like when we were kids, life has thrown hurdles at us, too. During my cancer treatment, there were many moments when we just sobbed together. I had to have a single mastectomy, followed by eight sessions of chemotherapy, and I was terrified about having the treatment. I remember Rebecca pleading with me: “Please, Amy. Everyone we know who didn’t do it when it was advised is no longer with us.” I’m so glad I listened to her.
When my hair began to fall out, it was another huge blow that really affected my confidence. Rebecca and our family came over and we laughed and cried as my friend Karla shaved my head. Rebecca is the one person who really knew what my long hair meant to me and she struggled that day, but she also helped me find pockets of joy amid the sadness. We had such fun trying on wigs together and when I made a surprise appearance on Strictly last year, it was Rebecca who encouraged me to ditch my wig and go bald. I’m so pleased I did.
Our mum also had breast cancer in her 50s, so my biggest worry was whether it was genetic and Rebecca would get it, too. I was tested for the BRCA1 gene mutation and, thankfully, I don’t carry it. I’m always making sure that Rebecca checks her breasts anyway.
I couldn’t wait to ring the bell signalling the end of my chemotherapy last year, on 8 November. I still need monthly injections for the next five years, so I don’t have the all-clear just yet, but I’m so thankful to be able to get back to some form of normality.
If I’ve learned anything over the past couple of years, it’s to grab life by the horns. I want to travel with Rebecca and start a family with Ben – and I need my health to do those things. My motto in life is ‘get better, not bitter’ – and I intend to live by that every day.'
REBECCA SAYS...
Midwife Rebecca, 34, lives in St Fagans, near Cardiff.
'When I watched Amy on Strictly for the first time, I was bursting with pride that the nation got to see the abundance of talent and joy she has when she dances. She was partnered with Brian Conley and when they danced the tango to Heaven 17’s Temptation, they both had the biggest grins on their faces. I was so pleased that, after all her setbacks with Crohn’s and the hard work she’d put into turning her dream into a reality, she was finally getting everything she deserved.
Just the year before, I’d watched Amy and her now-husband Ben win the British National Championships in Blackpool. I was living in Australia at the time, and Amy had worked towards this her entire career, so I had to be there. I flew back to the UK without telling her, got access to the B&B they were staying in and hid in a wardrobe. When she came into the room, I jumped out and Amy shouted, "I knew you wouldn’t miss it!"
It was clear from when we were very little that Amy was a natural dancer. A couple of weeks into our dance lessons, our teacher, Phillip, took our mum aside and said, "With the right coaching, Amy can go all the way." She danced at every opportunity she had, whether that was down the aisles in Morrisons or in the queue for the school canteen. Most of our spare time was spent making up dance routines – with Amy being the teacher, of course!
Amy has an infectious, bubbly personality and goes a hundred miles an hour. There’s a light in her that shines from within, so it was heartbreaking seeing that light go out every time she was admitted to hospital with a Crohn’s flare-up. I used to fear coming home from school to find that Amy wasn’t there. I’d visit her in hospital and always made it my mission to make her laugh – I have a dry sense of humour that Amy bounces off, so we’d often end up in fits of giggles.
One of the hardest things for me over the years has been the guilt that I’ve never had any health problems like Amy has. The day she told me she had breast cancer was the most difficult day of my life to date. I was terrified, but I knew I had to be strong for her. When we broke the news to our parents, who were on holiday at the time, Amy wanted to FaceTime them. But when they came on the screen, she got too upset and asked me to say it. That was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.
I tried to keep my emotions from Amy when I was with her, because I knew she was worried about how we were all coping as a family. When she decided to shave her hair off, she knew it was hard for us all to watch her go through it, but once it was done, we were in the garden doing a dance for TikTok. Even in her darkest moments, shards of her light shine through. It was a huge relief when we found out Amy doesn’t carry the BRCA1 gene, but since her diagnosis, breast cancer is something I’m far more aware about, and I’ve been much more proactive about checking my breasts.
Amy is always thanking me for supporting her, but the truth is, I don’t think I’d be where I am today without her. I was very shy growing up, and if I hadn’t gone to that dance class with her and been pushed out of my comfort zone, I wouldn’t have built the confidence I have today. Amy has a fiercely positive mental attitude, and anything I want to achieve, she instils a faith in me that I can do it. We could all do with being a bit more Amy.'
Amy Dowden shares her inspiring story in her new book Dancing In The Rain (Piatkus) which is out now.