Today was my very first Susan G. Komen MORE THAN PINK Walk in Charlotte. And what a day it was!
The weather actually cooperated for the most part. We got rained on during the opening ceremony and a little during the walk, but thankfully, the rain held off for most of the morning.
We had friends and family come out to walk with us, and our team raised almost $2,000! I can’t begin to tell you how much it meant to have everyone there.
One of the most emotional moments for me was the survivor parade. If you know me, you know I do NOT like being the center of attention. I was embarrassed, emotional, and honestly, a little uncomfortable.
I wasn’t even sure where I belonged. I’m 12 days away from the one-year anniversary of my double mastectomy, but it’s been over a year since my last chemo treatment. I finally decided to stand with the 1–4 year survivors.
Standing there was strange. I never imagined I’d be one of those people walking in a survivor parade.
And it got me thinking about something that’s been on my mind for a while.
I Am Not a Warrior
People mean well when they tell someone with cancer how brave they are or call them a warrior. I’ve said those same things myself.
Three years ago, I called my sister a warrior. I talked about how hard she fought and how she lost her battle. I meant every word with love.
But I didn’t understand then what I understand now.
Cancer isn’t a fair fight. And someone who dies from it didn’t lose because they weren’t strong enough or didn’t fight hard enough.
They didn’t choose to lose. They didn’t choose any of it.
And the truth is, I don’t feel like a warrior. I don’t even feel particularly brave.
I sat in a chair while they pumped drugs into my body. I listened to my doctors tell me what needed to happen next, and I did it. Not because I was brave, but because what other choice did I have?
I didn’t wake up one morning and decide I wanted to fight cancer. Cancer showed up, uninvited, and turned my life upside down.
I did what I had to do.
But here’s something I will give myself credit for.
I didn’t give up.
I could have crawled into bed, shut out the world, and let cancer become my entire life. And believe me, there were days when that would have been easier.
But I didn’t want to stop living just because I was sick.
Life kept moving around me, and I tried my best to keep moving with it. Some days were harder than others. Some days I probably didn’t do a very good job. But I kept going.
I tried to live while I was sick.
And I think that’s what I want people to understand.
You don’t have to be brave every day. You don’t have to be positive every day. You don’t have to be a warrior.
Sometimes just getting through the day is enough.
And if someone doesn’t survive cancer, it doesn’t mean they gave up. It doesn’t mean they weren’t brave enough.
It means cancer took something from them that it never had the right to take.
I wish I had understood that when I talked about Katey losing her fight.
She didn’t lose because she didn’t try hard enough.
It was never a fair fight to begin with.
The Little Things Matter
After the walk, we all went to lunch together.
Our waitress wasn’t exactly having her best day. Service took forever, and under normal circumstances, I probably would have been a little aggravated.
But sitting there with people I love, I realized it really didn’t matter how long lunch took.
We were together.
We were laughing, talking, and spending time with each other. And after everything I’ve been through, those are the moments I don’t want to take for granted anymore.
I don’t know how much time any of us have. None of us do.
But I know I’m going to enjoy the time I have. I’m going to make memories, spend time with the people I love, laugh when I can, and try not to waste so much energy on the things that really don’t matter.
That’s something cancer has changed about me.
I wish I could have learned it another way.
No One Walks Alone
Today wasn’t just about breast cancer awareness or raising money.
It was about showing up for each other.
It was about remembering Katey and all the people who should still be here.
It was about celebrating the people who are still here without forgetting those who aren’t.
Tomorrow marks three years since we lost Katey. Three years. It’s hard to believe that much time has passed.
As I walked today, I couldn’t help thinking about how much I wish she were here. I wish she could have laughed with us, walked beside us, and joined us for that ridiculously long lunch.
But I also thought about how lucky I was to have so many people there with me.
Tomorrow I’ll remember her, just as I do every day. But today, we walked for her.
We walked for me.
We walked for Katey.
And we walked for everyone whose life has been touched by breast cancer.
This was my first walk, but it definitely won’t be my last.
No one walks alone. 💗
I’d love to hear from you.