April 22nd. 2020.

38 years old, with a 6 year old son.

6 months into a second marriage with two teenage bonus daughters.

Diagnosed, at the hospital alone, with Stage 3 Inflammatory Breast Cancer.

40% chance of survival.

Today, 4 years ago, I started my journey with inflammatory breast cancer. I never called it a fight. Because it wasn’t a fight. It was a journey. In fact, I called it my Moana Journey (and still do), because at the end of Moana, she faced the lava monster head on, eye to eye, and won… with love and understanding. From that grew a new life, beautiful and rich.

I was determined that my cancer journey would be the same. Moana didn’t ask for her calling, she was scared and uneducated and young. Same.

She had people rally around her and support her, helping to show the way. Same.

She journeyed into unchartered territory, afraid, but brave. Lost but found. Naïve but willing to learn. Same.

4 years ago today, I was diagnosed with cancer. And, as odd as it sounds, I wouldn’t change it for the world. No, I don’t want cancer. Cancer sucks. I claim a life long lived. However, the things I learned, the way cancer forced me to open my heart and my eyes, and the new perspectives I have now that I never would’ve had before….

I am thankful for the cancer I had. I am thankful for the struggle and the tears and the learning and the growing. I’m particularly grateful for the community of beautiful souls that I have now, that I wouldn’t otherwise have.

This life is messy and ugly and confusing and weird and hard and frightening and equally beautiful and wonderful and safe. More than one thing can be true at a time.

So, as odd as it sounds, and it sounds weird af….

I celebrate today, my 4th cancer-versary, because it helped to create the fullness of the life I live today.

AND I AM STILL ALIVE.