I may be the one who received the cancer free news, but I did not get here alone. The gift of this journey has been realizing that the people who showed up with faith, encouragement, laughter, meals, and real-life support were some of the best medicine I could receive. This is the story of how I learned to let people help, lean into hope, and keep Shining Forward.

The MyChart alert came through after my double mastectomy, and for a moment, I could not bring myself to open it. What happened next was a lesson in fear, faith, surrender, science, and the people who help us keep going.

Days before my double mastectomy, I found myself standing on a stage holding a microphone in front of a community of women I truly admire. In this moment I was reminded me that I am still me. Not just a patient. Not just a diagnosis. This is the story of Magical May, Mic Drop Live, and the unexpected reminder I needed before surgery. Comparison doesn’t stand a chance in the face of meaningful connection!

There is something ridiculously satisfying about power washing. Watching dark, mucky brick transform into something clean and new feels invigorating. Motivating. Cancer may have slowed me down, but it also changed the way I see growth, identity, scars, and the messy beauty of becoming someone new on the other side.

Two weeks, four rounds of chemo, and a whole lot of real life in between. This update shares what it actually feels like, what I’m learning, and yes… my wig finally has a name. You’ll have to read to find out.

Today my gratitude list included pizza, Kleenex, and a really good trip to the bathroom.

Cancer will do that to a person.

While hiking after my third round of chemo, I started noticing the things that still felt good, still felt normal, still felt like life.

Turns out gratitude gets very real when life gets really hard.

Chemo 3, Day 5 hit differently. Bone pain, anger, and a full-blown pity party forced me to confront what faith really looks like when you don’t feel strong.

She looks healthy. She looks happy. But she is in the middle of chemotherapy for stage 2 HER2 breast cancer. A reflection on invisible illness, faith, and why kindness matters more than we know.

Ten days into chemo and already seeing the world differently. Gratitude, faith, Pepcid AC, and finding humor and hope during cancer treatment.