Yesterday marked National Cancer Survivors Day—a day to honor those who have faced a cancer diagnosis and to raise awareness about the unique challenges survivors continue to navigate long after treatment ends. It also gave me a moment to pause and reflect on my own 12-year survivorship journey—and to think back to the very first time I heard the words, “You have cancer.”
It was 2013, and I was a healthy 26-year-old heading in for a routine gynecologist appointment. The last thing I expected to hear was that a nodule had been found on my thyroid and that I should get it checked out. I had no symptoms, no cause for concern—yet something about the way the doctor said it made me think, this could be serious.
Fast forward to today, and while I’m no longer in active treatment, that thyroid cancer diagnosis is still a constant presence in my life. Each morning, before I even get out of bed, I reach for the bottle of synthetic thyroid hormone replacement pills on my nightstand—a daily reminder of what my body has been through. Just last week, I had my bi-annual blood work and neck check with my endocrinologist. In a few months, I’ll go in for my yearly neck ultrasound—and with it, the familiar wave of scanxiety.
Even though it’s been more than a decade since my diagnosis, that moment changed everything. Cancer made me reevaluate my priorities. It gave me the clarity to leave behind unfulfilling roles and the courage to pursue a career rooted in advocacy—one where I could use my lived experience to support others. Eventually, that same strength propelled me to take the leap into entrepreneurship and start my own business. More than anything, survivorship has reshaped how I spend my time, who I surround myself with, and how I move through the world.
When I reflect on that chapter of my life, I feel a mix of sorrow and deep gratitude. Because while I would never wish for a cancer diagnosis, I know I wouldn’t be the person I am today without it.
To everyone walking their own cancer journey—whether you’re newly diagnosed, in treatment, or years into survivorship—know this: You are seen. You are strong. And you are never alone.
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