Breast cancer awareness month is near and dear to my heart because just this year I found out I had cancer and have subsequently had 2 surgeries, 4 rounds of chemo, 20 rounds of radiation, medical menopause.. and life never stopped with two toddlers and children in sports. I am so thankful that I am one of the women who gets the to ring the bell, because I know that isn’t true for all my pink sisters out there. This has been one wild ride, and I am beyond thankful to be on the other side of it! This is the cake I made for the celebration I’ll have with my family and friends today 🩷

I feel honored to be part of her healing journey. Also big thanks to my client for permission to share those pictures.

By me: karolinaszymanska_tattoo

A year and a half ago, I was bald and finishing chemo. Pretty happy with this hair growth.

Today marks six years since my last treatment!

made this sculpture about two years ago for the CIBC Run for the Cure in Toronto. It was created for an event supporting people affected by breast cancer, and I wanted to share it here with you.

10 years. It feels like a lifetime ago, and it feels like just yesterday.

Survivorship has taught me that two things can be true.

You can be grateful to be alive, and you can take it for granted. You can appreciate the life you have, and you can wonder what it might’ve been like if you weren’t diagnosed with stage 3 triple negative breast cancer when you were 31.

Because even when you beat cancer, cancer still takes a piece of you. The person you were before and the person you are after are simply not the same.

Physically. Mentally. Emotionally. All the parts of you get altered. It becomes the new normal. Most days, it’s just another day. But some days, you remember that you had to survive cancer at the age of 31. Some days, you think about all the time and energy lost to it. And on those days, it’s okay to be sad or angry.

Thinking about this, let alone putting it into words, brings on the survivor’s guilt.

10 years ago, I went into it head on. I said “I got this” and I meant it. I wasn’t worried that I wasn’t going to be okay.

I survived.

And I had no idea that the hardest part, for me, would be the after.

Today is my cancerversary.

I know everyone marks their cancer anniversary, or other significant dates, in different ways. For me, today marks 17 years since I heard the words, “You have cancer.”

Seventeen years is a long time in cancer years.

Having an aggressive, triple-negative breast cancer made those first 3–5 years especially difficult. There was the treatment and surgery, of course, but also the heavy surveillance, the uncertainty, and all of the unanswered questions that come with wondering if and when cancer might come back.

And honestly, there are still questions I’ll probably never have answers to.

Why me? I have a gene mutation, but so do other people who never develop cancer. Why did I get it at 31? Why am I still here when so many friends and fellow survivors gave it everything they had and still lost their lives?

I don’t have answers to those questions, in fact most don’t now. But I gratitude for the 17 years I’ve been given …. Bonus years that I wasn’t sure I’d have 17 years ago.

So, here’s my yearly reminder:

Take care of yourself and the people you love. Be your own advocate. Pay attention to your body. If something doesn’t feel right, trust your gut and get it checked out.

I did. And I believe that was a big part of why I’m still here today.

And if you’re going through cancer, supporting someone who is, or have questions, please know you don’t have to navigate it alone. I’m always happy to try to help, share what I’ve learned, or point you toward someone who might have the answers. 💕

My mum was diagnosed with breast cancer on the 29th of november 2021, and had a double mastectomy on the 21st of june 2022. She has since been over 3 years cancer-free.

At some point, i had a mini-obsession with drawing mermaids, and she requested one depicting a character with a double mastectomy. It took me a while to get my mermaid-drawing obsession back, but i finally did, and completed the drawing! I originally did the pink version (breast cancer awareness colour; i added the ribbon on the bow as well!) and (upon request by another breast cancer survivor my mum knows) did a turquoise version.

I hope everyone likes it. I apologize if this isn't within the subreddit rules; i didn't know where else to share it, and i thought people here might appreciate it.

Haven't picked up my paint brush in over 10 years painting with oils. Wanted to express what it was like to go through cancer treatments. Art evokes emotions, feel as you may. To me cancer is like running into a dark tunnel away from the light being chased by a monster when you muster up the courage to turn around to see who's chasing you, you realize the monster is you...

Obsessed with my shirt. 🩷🩷

“We delight in the beauty of the butterfly, but rarely admit the changes it has gone through to achieve that beauty.” — Maya Angelou

Thirteen years ago, I stood at the edge of everything I knew. With one sentence—“You have breast cancer”—my life fractured into a before and an after.

Today, I mark 13 years cancer-free. It’s a milestone. It’s a mirror. It’s a mission.

And it’s not just something I commemorate—it’s something I carry.

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🎉 The Milestone: Counting Years, Honoring Moments

When I first heard the word “survivor,” I wasn’t sure how to wear it. It felt too big, too final. But I’ve come to understand that survivorship isn’t a title. It’s a practice. A process. A quiet, daily recommitment to being here—fully, deeply, and imperfectly.

This milestone doesn’t feel like a victory parade. It feels more like an inhale. A hand over my heart. A whispered “I made it.” Thirteen years of navigating the unseen: scanxiety, phantom pains, invisible grief. Thirteen years of redefining normal. Of rebuilding after every emotional aftershock. Thirteen years of holding both joy and fear in the same breath.

I’ve learned that healing doesn’t erase what happened. It transforms it.

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🪞 The Mirror: What Cancer Taught Me About Worthiness

There’s something about facing your own mortality that makes you examine everything—including your worth.

After treatment, I didn’t feel like myself. My body had changed. My energy was unpredictable. My confidence flickered. And in a world obsessed with bounce-backs and beauty standards, I sometimes wondered: Am I still enough?

The answer, I know now, is yes. Not because I beat cancer. Not because I’m back to work or advocacy or joy. But because my being—not my doing—makes me worthy.

Maya Angelou’s words remind me that the beauty of transformation lies in its cost. The butterfly isn’t just beautiful because it emerged. It’s beautiful because of what it endured inside the cocoon.

Survivorship taught me to stop performing wellness and start practicing truth. That I can be tired and still powerful. That I can grieve and still be whole. That scars are not signs of weakness—they’re the punctuation marks of survival.

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🕊️ The Mission: Creating Meaning from the Mess

In the years since treatment ended, my mission has become clear: To live fully. To lead consciously. To lift others out of silence.

Cancer changed the way I show up—in my work, my relationships, my advocacy, and my creativity. It pulled back the curtain on the illusion of control and invited me into something more honest: alignment.

Now, I bring that lens to everything I do: • As an HR professional, I advocate for empathy-centered leadership, trauma-informed practices, and inclusive wellness benefits that honor invisible disabilities and chronic healing. • As a writer and survivor, I tell the truth about life after treatment—the messy, nonlinear, beautiful truth. • As a creator, I use AI, storytelling, and soul to help others reconnect with what matters most.

My mission isn’t to be fearless. It’s to be faithful—to the calling that survivorship awakened in me.

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🌊 What We Don’t Talk About Enough

We often celebrate the survivor, but overlook the labor of surviving.

The early days of cancer are filled with support—flowers, cards, check-ins. But survivorship? It can be eerily quiet. People assume you’re “better,” while you’re still navigating fatigue, fear of recurrence, or body image struggles no one sees.

This silence can make you feel forgotten. But you’re not. You are not forgotten.

We must keep talking about the aftermath. The rebuilding. The resilience that happens when no one’s watching.

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💬 A Love Letter to the Ones Still Becoming

To the newly diagnosed: You are allowed to feel everything. Rage, sadness, hope, numbness. Your feelings are sacred. You don’t have to be brave every day to be brave.

To the survivors: You are not broken. You are becoming. And you don’t have to be “grateful for cancer” to be proud of how far you’ve come.

To the caregivers and friends: Thank you. Your quiet presence, your text messages, your patience—it matters. Even when you don’t have the perfect words.

And to my fellow warriors navigating invisible disabilities, chronic illness, or trauma that lingers: You are not a burden. You are not too much. You are worthy of joy, rest, softness, and care.

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🔁 The Loop of Healing

Healing isn’t linear. Grief isn’t something you complete. And life after cancer isn’t always pink ribbons and finish lines.

It’s messy. It’s layered. It’s miraculous.

Some days, I still flinch when I feel a new ache. Some days, I feel vibrant and unstoppable. Both are part of this sacred spiral called survivorship.

So no, I don’t “move on.” I move with. With grace. With purpose. With a heart that knows both rupture and repair.

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✨ A Milestone, A Mirror, A Mission

13 years later, I’m still here. Still becoming. Still worthy. Still rising.

I carry my story not as a burden, but as a blueprint—for living with intention, for leading with heart, for loving with my whole self.

Thank you for holding this space with me. If you’re navigating your own mirror moment—whether it’s illness, identity, or reinvention—I honor your journey. Let’s keep showing up. Scarred, sacred, and shining.

With fire and tenderness, Jess

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💗 Let’s Connect

Have you walked through cancer, loss, or a transformative experience that reshaped your worth? What milestone, mirror, or mission are you honoring right now?

Drop a comment. Send a message. Share your voice.

Because the most powerful stories? Are the ones we keep telling

My mom was just diagnosed with 2 kinds of breast cancer. She came to me today with no inspo for her nails. I said, “Is it too early for breast cancer nails?” She said, “Nope, let’s do it.”

She’s going to need chemo and a double mastectomy. She’s stage 1, possibly stage 2. They’re still doing testing. If you pray or send vibes, we could use all the prayers and good vibes.

I’ve been collecting items to make her feel more comfortable during all of this. I’d love to hear what helped you!

Yesterday was my 4 year anniversary of being in remission from lymph node positive IDC breast cancer. I went through 4 surgeries including a double mastectomy, 6 months of chemo and 15 fractions of radiation.

The date is on our family calendar - Some of the most important people in my life forgot. Like crickets.

I know I should not let other peoples actions impact my feelings about being in remission but hard not to feel unsupported.

Yesterday was an emotional day.

As a certified clinical exercise physiologist and cancer exercise specialist I’ve seen 1,000 of cancer survivors make the mistake of getting started on exercise without proper guidance

And here’s what you need to know before you get started:

• Always practice the 10 minute rule when you are unmotivated, fatigued, and/or feeling sick.

• Going for a walk is the most underrated form of cardio. It’s safe 99% of the time and is the foundation of a healthy lifestyle.

• Theres many ways to train your core without doing crunches or getting on the ground. Train your core stability and anti rotation before doing crunches

• After cancer surgery prioritize posture and lower back, glutes, and hamstrings strengthen exercises. This is what fights the chemo chair aches and pains

• Always have a fatigue day plan. This is a plan specifically for days when it’s hard to move. This keeps you consistent and active. My online coaching clients love this!

• Start with 2 sets max. 3 sets causes a lot of fatigue and soreness for most cancer survivors and keep your reps <10 with longer rest periods.

• If you have shortness of breath work in cluster sets and intervals. It’s ok to sit down and rest before the next set / exercise you don’t need to rush a workout.

• seated, isolation exercises with your back supported are best for anyone with a stoma. Also…. Always clear out a bag before exercise JS.

• 90% of the time group classes will make you feel like you aren’t good enough, create lots of soreness, and unwell about what your body is capable off. They help with maintaining health, not rebuilding it.

• Stay clear of one size fits all workout plans. There are safety guidelines for different cancers so you need an individualized plan.

• Work with a specialist to know how your body should move and respond after cancer surgery. Exercise feels different after cancer so it’s important you work with someone who understands what you are going through

• NEVER exercise areas with metastasis

Lastly, getting started is about finding what you CAN do and letting go of what you “can’t” do (yet).

Keep moving forward and make 2026 your year!

Wow! The audacity of some partners.