5 Things I Don't Do After Surviving Breast Cancer in My Twenties

Lessons from a Lifequake

Aug 26, 2024

A few days ago, I came across this powerful note from

I’d never heard the term Lifequake, but it resonated with me immediately.

Being diagnosed with aggressive breast cancer at age twenty-nine was about as close to the above definition as I could imagine.

Unexpected? Yup.

Devastating? Absolutely.

Transformative growth? Well… maybe?

Georgia’s note made me reflect on the ways I’ve changed since my diagnosis.

Cancer has taken a lot from me, but facing my mortality so young put some things in perspective, and because of that, I’ve been irrecoverably changed.

Though I’ve found some positives in what I’ve been through, I don’t want to diminish the suffering I’ve experienced. Breast cancer is a terrible disease, and any personal growth on my part has been hard-won and likely the result of having access to mental health support. I want to acknowledge that not everyone is as lucky as I am to receive such support.

However, I believe the lessons I’ve learned are universal, and I hope that these truths resonate with you, whether you’ve been through cancer or not.

I don’t sweat the small stuff

Life is a mercurial thing. One day, you may be daydreaming about starting a family with your husband; the next, you may find yourself dozing in an infusion centre.

I went from being a seemingly healthy twenty-nine-year-old to a frail, exhausted cancer patient in the space of a few months. Having never faced a life-threatening disease before, it was jarring and frightening to be confronted by the fragility of life.

Now that my cancer is in remission, I try not to get worked up about things that don’t matter.

This is easier said than done, of course. Being human is a messy, scary and complicated experience and having cancer doesn’t fix any of that. Still, these days, I’m more aware than ever of the importance of health, happiness and family.

Everything else is just background noise.

I don’t put up with unkindness

The beautiful and horrible thing about life is that we’re all here for a short time, and I’m finding that the older I get, the faster the years seem to go by.

After everything I’ve been through, I can’t fathom the point of being anything other than kind. Sure, we all have our moments, but I believe kindness should be our default.

If I notice someone is making it a habit to be unkind, I’d rather spend my time with others.

To quote my very wise therapist:

If it’s not kind, it’s not worth my time.

I don’t let fear stand in my way

I’ve always had a highly militant inner critic, and boy, does she know how to sling around searing insults. (Trust me when I say she didn’t get the kindness memo.)

I know that these self-admonishments are, at their core, attempts to protect myself. But if I listened to my every fear, I’d never do anything out of my comfort zone. I wouldn’t even be writing this post right now.

In my life after cancer, I try not to let my inner critic have free rein. To paraphrase Mo Gawdat: thoughts are to the brain what urine is to the kidneys.

It takes continuous effort, but when my inner critic pipes up with a cruel put-down, I tell myself not to listen to the ‘piss thought’.

It’s never easy to do something that scares you, but I’m starting to believe that bravery is a skill you can develop.

I never take a good moment for granted

Chemotherapy made me very sick, and because of this, I sometimes missed out on things that were important to me: hanging out with friends, family holidays or having a few drinks at my 30th birthday party.

Now, when I’m lucky enough to be on holiday or celebrating with friends, I don’t take the moment for granted.

I’m painfully aware that being healthy and happy is a privilege, not a guarantee.

I don’t hold back on saying ‘I love you’

I’ve learned that life is more delicate than I ever could’ve imagined. I’m proud to be a cancer survivor and advocate for the young adult cancer community, but as a result of my community work, I’ve seen many women die before their time. I even lost my childhood best friend to this insidious disease.

As much as we all wish it were, tomorrow isn’t promised, and because of this, I want the people in my life to know how much I care about them.