2025 Komen Houston Race for the Cure

Year 3: A Quiet Strength

I wish I could say it’s gotten easier — that the hardest parts are behind me. But the truth is, this year has been hard in ways I didn’t expect. Not because of treatments or hospital stays, but because of the quiet, lingering weight that survivorship carries. The physical battle may be over, but the emotional terrain is just as challenging — and often invisible. I came across a piece recently that resonated deeply with me. I didn’t write it, but it captures exactly what this year has felt like — the silent, ongoing battle of surviving cancer:

The Other Side of Surviving Cancer: A Silent Battle
People often say:
"You are so strong."
"You’ve fought a good fight."
"You are blessed."

And while I appreciate those words, I want to speak honestly today.
Please note: surviving cancer is not as easy as most people think.
Yes, we may look fine on the outside — smiling, showing up, moving forward — but inside, many of us are battling a storm that no one sees.

The truth is: there are so many hidden fears and emotional challenges.
• Will it come back?
• Will my daughter have to go through this too?
• Is this pain just pain… or a sign of something worse?
• Why am I still so anxious… tired… on edge… even though the treatment is over?

Survivorship is a different kind of war.
The physical part may end, but the mental scars can linger for years.
Every hospital visit, every scan, every health scare brings back the trauma.
We live with the fear of recurrence.
We grieve the version of ourselves we lost.
We smile — but sometimes it’s just to hide the tears.

Something inside me is strong — but that strength is tested daily.
Cancer changes you in ways that are deep, personal, and often invisible.

I share this not for sympathy, but for awareness.
To tell fellow survivors: You are not alone.
To remind loved ones: Healing isn’t just about physical recovery — it’s also emotional and mental.
To urge the world: Mental health care is essential for cancer survivors.

Let’s break the silence.
Let’s talk about the mental health struggles of survivorship.
Let’s be kind — you never know what silent battle someone is fighting.

As I step into the next year, I carry with me not just the scars, but the lessons. I’ve learned that healing is not linear, and strength doesn’t always look like bravery — sometimes it looks like vulnerability, honesty, and asking for help. To those walking this road too: I see you. To those supporting us: thank you for your patience and love. And to myself: This journey continues, and I’ll keep walking it — one quiet, courageous step at a time.

If you’d like to support this journey and help make a difference, please consider walking with and/or donating to Rejani’s Rack Pack for the Susan G. Komen Walk happening on October 4th. Every contribution helps fund research, support services, and hope for those still fighting. Together, we walk for awareness, for healing, and for a future without breast cancer.