When I turned 35, my life changed. On a work trip, I felt a sharp pain in my chest that sent me to the ER. They said I was fine, but the scare stuck with me. A few days later, during a rare self-exam, I found a lump in my right breast. My doctor brushed it off, saying it was probably a fibroid, but something did not feel right. That weekend, I searched for any open practice and found a gynecologist who luckily listened and insisted on a mammogram. A biopsy followed, and just before Thanksgiving, I got the diagnosis: Breast Cancer.

Chemo started the week of Christmas, followed by surgery, radiation, a chemo pill, another surgery, and another pill. Two years after being diagnosed, treatment technically finished, but I was left with the pieces of what I just went through. My body had changed inside and out. I was 30 pounds heavier, my hair was growing back in every direction, and mentally, I was really struggling. My brain fog got so bad I ended up quitting my job. I carried this heavy embarrassment and just kept wondering when I would start to feel like myself again. 

When I was first diagnosed, people were everywhere. Texting, calling, checking in. But once treatment ended, people started reaching out less and less and why wouldn't they? Everyone thought I was fine now. 

There’s a tremendous relief in surviving, but life after can be very complicated. There’s this guilt of why was I lucky enough to survive? There’s this fear that comes rushing back every time someone mentions a scan. The “what ifs” are always lurking.

So what has helped me get back to being me? Talking, sharing and connecting with others who’ve been there. Giving support and receiving it back. Because the truth is, life after Breast Cancer isn’t about going back to who you were. It’s about learning how to live again, day by day and sometimes minute by minute.