Why Not Me? My Story in Women With Voices, Volume 1

With Sandy Spady, founder of Women with Voices.

I am honored to share that my story, “Why Not Me?,” will be included in Women With Voices, Volume 1, launching January 23, 2027.

When I was diagnosed with breast cancer at forty-nine, I spent weeks asking, “Why me?” I was healthy, active and doing everything I thought I was supposed to do. Cancer did not seem to fit into the life I had built.

Eventually, the question changed.

Why not me?

That shift did not make cancer fair or easy, but it helped me stop searching for a reason and begin facing what was in front of me. Writing became one of the ways I processed the fear, uncertainty and unexpected lessons that followed.

Since then, my experience with breast cancer—and later follicular lymphoma—has shaped my work as a yoga teacher, writer and cancer advocate. It led me to create Flow for the Fight, teach yoga for people affected by cancer and walk in the Susan G. Komen 3-Day.

Contributing to Women With Voices gives me another opportunity to turn a deeply personal experience into connection. My hope is that someone reading my story will feel seen, understood and a little less alone.

I am grateful to be included alongside other women willing to share their voices and their stories. I look forward to sharing more as the launch approaches.

One year

One year ago, I was in the middle of a nearly nine-hour surgery.

It’s incredible to think that experience is now behind me.

But it is!

I’ve completed my surgeries—four of them in 2020—and recently met with my oncologist to review my MRI.

All clear!

With that news, I have been “downgraded” to oncology appointments every six months. I will have additional imaging this summer and continue taking Tamoxifen, a daily medication planned for the next five to 10 years.

Cancer has changed both my perspective and my priorities.

I now divide so much of life into before and after my diagnosis: my thoughts, dates, sense of time, body, holidays and even the length of my hair.

It’s a little like life before and after children, divorce or an election.

You get the idea.

Before my diagnosis, I often pushed my deeper thoughts away. Now, I sit with them—even if some days I can manage only a minute.

I need to reflect on this past year. I don’t need to justify it or find a reason why. I simply need to acknowledge what my family and I have experienced.

I have so many blessings to count.

My tribe is alive and well.

And so am I.

Season Transition

The boys are in their second week of online school, but I’m not ready to let summer go!

I had understandably lowered my expectations for the summer because of COVID-19, cancer treatments, a second surgery, closed beaches, canceled flights, canceled college tours and canceled summer camps.

But I have to say that I’m continuing to enjoy a wonderful summer, even though the school year has already begun.

Really, I am!

We certainly made some adjustments, but the summer was still filled with family, friends, beach trips, girls’ weekends, a couples’ weekend, plenty of grown-up lunches and even a surprise 50th birthday celebration.

Yep, I turned 50!

I can honestly say that a day or two will sometimes pass without the word “cancer” crossing my mind.

It always finds its way back, but I’m better able to manage those thoughts. Cancer no longer has the hold on me that it once did.

I’m doing everything I can to care for my body, mind and soul. That has to be enough for now.

I have things to do!

My doctor’s appointment went as expected, with no new developments. I’m still taking Tamoxifen and will continue for at least the next five years.

The side effects are either diminishing, or I’m learning how to live with them.

Endless Summer

While AJ and I were out to lunch last Saturday, our server greeted us with a smile.

Mid-sentence, he did a double take. There was an awkward pause and then a long stare at my chest. This server, half my age, was gawking at my…

T-shirt.

“What does your shirt say?”

“F#%! Cancer.”

I told him my story. I’ve told it many times, but it still feels awkward and clunky—almost as though I’m speaking in the third person and replacing “she” with “I.”

Surreal.

The server praised me for my courage and called me a warrior.

I felt like a phony.

Warrior. Fighter. Survivor. Battle.

There is so much war terminology surrounding cancer. I’m quiet and more of an observer. I’m not aggressive—unless provoked.

Simply put, I feel as though I have only one choice: to keep moving forward. These days, I categorize my life as before and after my diagnosis.

July is my birthday month, and I am 50!

It’s a fun number to be, and I’m celebrating all summer. I’ve enjoyed visits from Shelby, my brother and Cheryl; a beach trip with both of my nieces; a girls’ trip to Savannah; and a trip to Charleston to visit my sorority sister.

Oh, and there was also a wonderful surprise 50th birthday celebration!

I’m doing well and feeling good. Sometimes, I even forget I have cancer.

Isn’t that a wonderful thing?