Survivorship

Permanently Stargazing, Constantly Changing

Any cancer patient knows the sound, and they know it well; even subconsciously. While it might not have a name to the common public, the crinkle of sanitary plastic seal peeling back to reveal a thin, metal needle is something familiar to us. That becomes a sound that’s just simply a part of your life, like the oven timer or your iPhone alarm clock. Some of those sterile, shining needles start IV drips for chemotherapies or anesthesia. Others spur the process of emotional healing.

A Powerful Vessel

“I’m so fat.”
“I hate the way my thighs look when I sit.”
“My cellulite and stretch marks are ugly.”
“Look how big my stomach is.”
“Why are my arms so big?”
“Ugh, I hate that picture, I have a double chin.”
“I wish I looked as thin as I did last year.”

Reflecting on 2022 and Looking Forward to 2023

The elephant in the room is cancer. Tea is the relief conversation provides. This is our motto, short and sweet. Storytelling is the heart and soul of what we do. It is the heartbeat of our organization. Everything that we do revolves around allowing people to share their stories in their own words.

Changing My Mind to Change My Body

Before I was a cancer patient, I was healthy, fit, and as my husband often said, “out of his league.” Though I wouldn’t say I staked my entire identity on the way my body looked and performed, I was very comfortable with it the way it was. Then cancer changed everything.

Our Tattoos: A Tribute to Cancer

I was born in Mexico, but moved to Texas when I was little. Just before starting my senior year of high school, I was diagnosed with acute promyelocytic leukemia. During chemo, I struggled with not being able to do the things I wanted, but my family and friends were a great support system. I love traveling and going to new places, and I now have my own small business.

Am I Too Ugly for Self-Love?

I was 24 years old and had just swapped out my college books for a sleek M16 in the U.S. Army. I dropped out of college in hopes of finding financial stability and a promising future defending my country.

Consent & Good Bones

what does consent mean
if you aren’t saying yes for yourself
if every incision, stitch, vile of blood
is done because i am too scared to say no

Finding Beauty After the Storm

When I do see me here,
I SEE ME.
Who has battled for MY life twice.
And who finally SEES beauty through MY journey. Not just with flowers, but MY scars have become marks of strength and hope.

My Bodyodyody

My body is the exquisite shell for my soul; it has endured and repaired, it is resilient, yet temporary. My body is my G-Ride . . . it takes me everywhere. My body is the shiny, hard, candy-coated exterior that houses my mind. My body is a first impression, a form to hang fashions on, it walks tall despite its five foot four stature.

OMG! You Don’t Have a What?!

The most authentic responses often come from the mouths of babes, even if said babes are teenagers.

About a year after I completed treatment, I was asked to help during a wrestling tournament at my high school. In my pre-cancer life, I was basically a team mom for every sport. I had a soft spot for my wrestlers, partially because most of their families never attended the meets and weren’t supportive of their student-athletes.