Then active treatment ended. I heard my oncologist say those 3 beautiful words, “No Evidence of Disease '' (NED), and I cried. Tears of accomplishment, pride, and relief that I was finally done with that part of the treatment plan AND tears of panic that I was being discharged from constant care. Questions fueled by fear entered my brain and wouldn’t relent. Questions like, “Now what?” “Who am I now that treatment is over?” “How will I manage my fears without routine blood work and check-ups with my oncologist?” “How do I go about my life now, without the comma of “active treatment” behind my name?” “How are they discharging me when I have so many side effects?” I had this false expectation that I would finally be able to exhale when I was discharged from active treatment, but I sat there on the exam table and couldn’t catch my breath. I was paralyzed by the unknown of this next phase. I knew I would now be labeled “breast cancer survivor” but that word gave me an unsettled feeling in the pit of my stomach.

I told you I would explain why I placed the word “survivor” in quotation marks. The word survivor indicates finality. Its definition is, “ a person who survives an experience in the past.” Sitting on that exam table, being told I didn’t need to come back for 3 months while not being able to breathe, I didn’t feel like I was done, that the cancer was in my past. I realized right then and there that I wasn’t a breast cancer “survivor”, I was surviving cancer and I would be surviving the rest of my life.    I was surviving side effects from treatment and surgeries. I was surviving pain in a body I couldn’t recognize or relate to. I was surviving to figure out how to connect with that new body with all its missing and altered parts. I was surviving when I looked in the mirror and didn’t recognize that woman in my reflection carrying 30 extra pounds of steroid and chemo weight, with curly hair, no eyebrows, eyelashes or boobs. Months passed and I continued to feel lost and scared without the connection and safety of constant medical care and observation. I didn’t know how to be grateful AND live with all the newness. I didn’t know how to define myself as a woman and a sexual being. I had lost that badass warrior mentality as soon as I was discharged from treatment. I didn’t know how to do this part of the journey and sadly, I was given no guidance. I was not given the “what to expect after discharge” speech.

Like you, I have been greatly impacted by cancer. My cancer defined me for many years. As soon as I hung up the phone with my doctor, hearing the words,” the biopsy confirmed you have cancer”, I became Jill,a mom with breast cancer. As time went on, I became Jill, a surgery patient,… Jill, a chemo or radiation patient… Jill, a sufferer from side effects… to Jill, a breast cancer “survivor.” (We will get to why I put “survivor” in quotation marks in a little bit). I had lost the identity of JILL. It took me years praying, practicing yoga, growing through therapy, and coaching to be comfortable living my life as an exclamation rather than a series of explanations. Explanations that showed up as commas. I held onto those commas because without them I felt naked, boring, basic, and definitely not special. That comma, as small as it was, gave me safety, gave me something to latch onto, gave me a sense of purpose. That purpose was to beat cancer so I could raise my four young kids. When I was diagnosed, I was 38 years old with four children ages 3,5,7,and 10. I endured chemotherapy, radiation, targeting therapy, 8 surgeries, complications and setbacks. Through the entire process,however, I knew who I was. I was Jill, a badass warrior mom of 4 who could do hard things and I was anchored by that identity.  

YOUniversal LOVE grew as my purpose shifted from beating cancer to developing a community where people can come together to reconnect, reclaim, and redefine their lives so they can let love return and live their life as an exclamation! 

Hi, I'm Jill!

I wasn’t a breast cancer “survivor,” I was surviving cancer and I would be surviving the rest of my life.