I Thought Surviving Was the Finish Line. Twenty-One Years Later, I Know Better.
Twenty-one years after my first cancer surgery, I’ve learned that survival was never the finish line. It was where the work of reclaiming myself—and truly living—began.
I stayed
There were three significant moments in my life when I could have died by suicide. For a long time, I carried shame about them. I understand those moments differently now. I didn’t truly want my life to end — I wanted the pain to end. And somehow, I stayed.