Breast cancer was personal to me long before I ever became the patient.

I watched my sister, Katey, fight breast cancer. I watched her go through treatment, lose her hair, keep living her life, and face things I thought I understood at the time.

Then I lost her.

And then I heard the words myself.

You have breast cancer.

Suddenly, I understood my sister in a way I never wanted to.

I became the one sitting in the chemo chair. I lost my hair. I went through surgeries and a double mastectomy. I learned what it feels like to look in the mirror and not recognize your own body. I learned about the exhaustion, the fear, and the strange reality of finishing treatment while wondering if you’ll ever really feel “finished” with cancer.

Today, my hair is growing back. I’m back at work. I’m living my life.

From the outside, I probably look like I’m back to normal.

But cancer changed me.

That’s why I’m walking.

I’m walking for the people currently sitting in those chemo chairs.

I’m walking for survivors learning how to live in bodies and lives that cancer changed.

I’m walking for families who have lost someone they love.

I’m walking for myself, because this body has been through hell and it’s still here.

But most of all, I’m walking for Katey.

There are so many things I wish I could go back and tell my sister now. I wish I could tell her that I understand things I couldn’t possibly understand then.

And more than anything, I wish she could be here to walk beside me.

She can’t.

So I’ll carry her with me.

Every step.

If you donate to my walk, you’re helping support the fight against a disease that has affected my family twice and changed my life forever.

Thank you for supporting me, for remembering Katey, and for helping me turn something that has taken so much from us into something that might help someone else.

I’m walking as a survivor.

I’m walking as Katey’s sister.

I’m walking for both of us. 💗