Real Talk: Even I hit my cancer limit this week.
From the Sunday Self-Care Chronicles | 6/8/25
This week’s Sunday Self-Care Chronicles shares a candid reflection on what it's like to feel completely cancered out—even (and especially!) when cancer is your life's work.
This week’s issue touches on:
✨ Honest insights into the cumulative impact of staying deeply engaged in cancer-land, personally and professionally.
✨ Four real-life moments from my week that highlight the hidden emotional labor of survivorship advocacy and client care.
✨ Permission and validation for stepping back, resting, and reclaiming moments of normalcy in life after cancer.
Read the full email below - and if something speaks to you please feel free to comment, share, or reach out!
Hey sweet friend,
Earlier this week my brain was bursting with ideas about what to share with you today. But somewhere amidst a packed schedule of personal and professional events in cancer land, I lost every single one.
So today, as I sat down to write, I realized that I'm completely fucking cancered out.
Don't get me wrong, I deeply love and am humbled by my work. I'm continually amazed by each of you, and I'm not going anywhere. But sometimes, existing in cancer land just feels like a LOT.
The truth is, none of us really leave cancer land after a diagnosis. Some choose to dive deeper, while others spend as little time here as possible (I see you and fully support you!).
Normally, writing to you, seeing clients, and developing new ideas LIGHTS. ME. UP. But cancer is heavy, and sometimes it catches up when I least expect it.
Here are a few things this week that drained me more than I anticipated:
1. It was a busy client week.
I love my clients fiercely, but the physical, mental, and emotional energy it takes to hold space for others navigating cancer adds up. Each session feeds my soul, but collectively they can leave me drained. (Boundaries are self-care baby, that's why I limit client days to three per week!)
2. Two late-night Zoom calls.
I'm part of an amazing ethical marketing membership—one of the best investments I've ever made in my business. But after two long client days, continuing to discuss cancer and work until late just isn't self-care (even when it's good stuff!).
3. A new survivorship appointment.
I've been shifting my cancer care and recently decided to drive over an hour to the University of Rochester’s Pluta Cancer Center, specializing in integrative oncology and survivorship. It was fantastic—especially proactive regarding sexual health and wellness (an area hugely impacted by forced menopause that I've mentioned here before). I'm excited to finally prioritize this part of my life again, but it was emotionally exhausting.
4. The Breast Cancer Network of WNY’s inaugural 5K fundraiser.
As a vendor, I spent a beautiful evening reconnecting with familiar faces and meeting new ones—from grandmas running with grandchildren to young women facing stage IV disease, and even one brave woman just three weeks into her diagnosis. who showed up hopeful but left feeling a bit overwhelmed.
It was an honor to meet so many new people and share my work with them, to listen to their stories, and to feel genuinely connected with each one, but also required me to be "on" for over five hours, hitting a few personal triggers along the way (a story for another day). I left equally energized and exhausted.
So, while I'd hoped to share something profound or inspiring, today I'm just reminding you that I'm human too.Sometimes, despite building my world around cancer, I wish I could forget about it, just for a little while.
No pity needed because I'm guessing you'd also like a break from cancer land. Am I right?
💭 Something to consider:
Does cancer ever fully go away, even when it's out of your body? Yes and no.
It can feel like cancer will never leave, but truthfully, there are fleeting moments when I genuinely forget I had cancer and I cherish those. Usually, it's in the midst of doing something mundane and totally normal—like cleaning my garage—until I bump into my a boob with no feeling and think, "Oh shit, that's right!" And in that remembering, I realize for just a split second, cancer wasn't part of my story.
☕️ I’d love to hear from you:
On my drive to and from my appointment, I blasted an old playlist of upbeat favorites, belting out songs at the top of my lungs as the sun finally shone for the first time in days. I felt like ME—the me who existed before cancer.
So how do you reconnect with who you truly are despite cancer? Is it through music, a hobby, or something else entirely? Hit reply and tell me—I genuinely want to know.
So until next time, here's a great big “fuck cancer," and another reminder that I'm always in this with you.
ps. Remember, taking a break from cancer-land doesn’t mean you love or care less. It means you're human, and humans need rest. Permission granted to unplug, guilt-free.