I was diagnosed with Small Cell NeuroendocrineCervical cancer in September 2010, at just 30 years old.

This year, September 2026, marks my 16-year cancerversary, 16 years since the day my life changed forever. I remember sitting with my medical oncologist and being told that my cancer was rare and aggressive. I was told, “Whatever you do, don’t Google it.” Of course, after I got home and my children were in bed, I Googled it. I sat there alone, reading everything I could find, and cried. My biggest fear wasn’t what would happen to me-it was what would happen to my children if they had to grow up without their mom. They were only 9 and 11. 

 Treatment began, and although I feel incredibly fortunate that my treatment was shorter than what many others experience, those months were a complete blur. My treatment consisted of four rounds of chemotherapy, five weeks of external radiation, and four high-dose internal radiation treatments. There were many days when I could barely get out of bed. I spent countless days sleeping, nauseous, exhausted, and simply trying to get through the day. As a mother, one of the hardest parts was knowing that I wasn’t able to be present for my family the way I wanted to be. I wanted to be there for my children, to be their mom, to make memories, and to make their lives feel as normal as possible, but there were days when my body simply wouldn’t allow it.

 My original plan was for four rounds of chemotherapy. Then, right around the holidays, I was told I might need six. Feeling defeated, I called my oncologist’s office and said, “Do I really need six rounds?” I remember thinking that if I didn’t, I wanted the chance to have a good Christmas with my children. At that point, I was convinced I was going to die. I was desperate for answers and searching for anyone who understood what I was going through. That’s when Angela F. reached out to me through another platform. She connected with me, shared her experience, and introduced me to our “sisters” group. At the time, there were only about 60 members, including sisters and supporters. Today, that community has grown to 845 members.

 That group gave me something I desperately needed: HOPE. It gave me a place to share the fears I didn’t want to burden my family with, a place to ask questions about treatment and side effects, and most importantly, a place where I didn’t have to explain what I was going through because the women there already understood. Over the past 16 years, these women and supporters have become family.

 I know what it feels like to be 30 years old, hear the words “rare” and “aggressive,” and feel completely lost, scared, and alone. I know what it feels like to wonder what the future holds and to be terrified of leaving your children behind. That experience made me make a promise to myself: I would be there for the next woman who needed someone to lean on.