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Recently, I found out that my cancer has progressed. After my initial diagnosis and treatment for ovarian cancer, including surgery and chemotherapy, recent imaging has unfortunately shown new metastatic areas, affecting the liver and lymph nodes. It’s still something I’m processing, and I don’t think it has fully settled in yet. There are moments where it feels very real, and others where it still feels distant. What feels important for me to acknowledge and to remember, is

Two months ago, I had lung surgery to remove a cancerous nodule, marking my second cancer diagnosis in one year. I prepared myself for the usual recovery symptoms: soreness, fatigue, and limited movement. But what truly caught me off guard was the nerve pain. It wasn’t just surface-level discomfort. It was sharp, tingling, sometimes burning sensations wrapping around my ribs and incision area. Some days it came in waves. Other days it lingered quietly in the background. And m

I took the first step back into exercise and breathing after lung surgery, and nothing about it felt strong, empowering, or graceful. It was slow, painful, emotional, and deeply humbling. Needing help with things that once felt automatic reminded me just how fragile my body feels right now and how far I am from the woman I used to be. Lifting my arms felt like lifting concrete. Breathing felt tight, unfamiliar, and scary. And yet, I showed up. Healing this second time hits di

The days after surgery are quieter, slower, and sometimes filled with uncertainty but for me, they’re also filled with gratitude. Grateful for skilled hands, for caring nurses, for family and friends who check in through messages and most of all, for the small victories each day: a deep breath without pain, a walk down the hall, a smile that doesn’t feel forced. Trusting the process has been my lifeline, and I want to share how embracing it can bring peace even in recovery. C

Dear 2026, I’m entering you with mixed emotions of hope, caution, and a determination shaped by experience. Last year, I shared my cancer journey: the discovery, the surgeries, the treatments, and the long road toward healing. I truly thought that chapter was coming to a close. But as you arrive, I find myself facing another diagnosis—cancer cells in my lung—and preparing once again for surgery and treatment early in your days. I won’t pretend I’m not afraid. Fear has a way o

I still struggle to find the right words for what the past year has been. Surreal is the closest one I can think of because none of this feels real, even as I’m living it. Yes, I have been diagnosed with cancer again. Yes, within one year. Two different cancers. How unlucky can one person be? Earlier this year, around March and April, my life was turned upside down with an ovarian cancer diagnosis. I went through a full hysterectomy, the removal of a cancerous cyst, and chemo