My Story: A Journey Through Stage 3 HER2+ Breast Cancer

I never thought I’d be telling this story. It began with a  self-check, the kind you always hear you should do but never think will lead to anything serious. But this time, it did. After a whirlwind of appointments, scans, and biopsies, I heard the words that shattered my world: “You have stage 3 HER2-positive breast cancer.”

HER2+—three characters that suddenly defined my life. It’s an aggressive form of breast cancer, but one with targeted treatment options. I clung to that hope.

The first battle was chemotherapy. It was six rounds of poison meant to save me. I watched my hair fall out in clumps, my body weaken, and my energy vanish. But I also discovered a strength I didn’t know I had. Every infusion became an act of defiance—my body was fighting back.

Next came the double mastectomy. Losing both breasts was more than physical—it was emotional. It felt like giving up a part of myself. But I also saw it as a choice to live, to reduce the risk of recurrence, to move forward. Surgery was hard. The pain, the drains, the scars. But I chose life over fear, healing over hiding.

Nearing the end, radiation began. Every day for 5 weeks, I laid still while beams of light burned away any remaining cancer cells—and along with them, the last pieces of my old self. By the end, I was exhausted, blistered, and fragile. But also victorious.

Cancer stole many things from me—but it gave me something too: clarity, resilience, perspective. I learned to celebrate every small win. I learned that bald can be beautiful, scars can be badges of honor, and vulnerability is not weakness—it’s power.

I’m not the same person I was before cancer. I’m more grounded, more grateful, and more fiercely alive.

This is my story. I share it for those who are just beginning theirs. You are not alone. You are not powerless. You are a warrior.