It has been 11 months since I was diagnosed with Stage IV IBC cancer. For the most part, I think I’ve handled it pretty well… up until now.

The PET scans have shown good results. Surgery is over. Radiation is over. I should be happy, right?

But physically, I’m struggling right now. The radiation burns and inflammation are painful. But if I’m being honest, the harder part is realizing I’ve held in my feelings for almost a year.

Eleven months of pushing my emotions down. Eleven months of protecting everyone else’s feelings. Eleven months of quiet fear, mental exhaustion, and thinking about my mortality every single day. For someone as emotional as I am, I can’t believe I managed to do that. But when it comes to the people I love, I’ve always been the protector. I keep hearing how strong I am… so I guess I felt like I had to prove it. The truth is I am so tired of being strong. And I’m so sick of being sick.

But I am now trying to remind myself that I don’t have to prove my strength to anybody but myself. To help, I started reminding myself… Strength is not the absence of breaking down. Strength is fighting while terrified. Strength is showing up while exhausted. Strength is being able to say out loud “I’m sick of being strong.” I am allowed to be angry. I am allowed to be tired. I am allowed to hate this. I am allowed to grieve and mourn the version of my life where cancer wasn’t part of my daily vocabulary.

I don’t know what my PET results will show next week, but what I do know is that even if I get the best news possible, stage IV doesn’t just “end.” I’m praying that it just becomes background noise. Because living scan-to-scan is its own kind of trauma. The PET next week isn’t just a test, it feels like a mental cliff I’m standing on.

I’ve had to tell my family and friends that if I seem quieter, heavier, or more emotional right now… this is why. As hard as it is, I’m still fighting. I will never stop. But for the first time, I am also finally letting myself feel all the feelings.