By: Desiree Burgos, 32, Endometrial Cancer
At 31 years old, I was diagnosed with stage 3 endometrial cancer that had spread to my ovaries and lungs. Hearing those words changed my life instantly. Nothing prepares you for the moment when you realize your body is fighting something so serious. In an instant, everything shifts—your priorities, your perspective, your understanding of yourself.
The other three rounds were more manageable, but no part of this journey was ever truly “easy.” Cancer teaches you quickly that strength does not always look like standing tall. Sometimes strength is simply showing up for treatment when you are terrified. Sometimes it is getting out of bed when your body feels broken. Sometimes it is choosing to keep going when everything in you wants to give up.
One of the greatest lessons this journey taught me was how important it is to understand my own body and advocate for myself. Before cancer, I think many of us move through life assuming doctors will always have every answer and that our bodies will simply keep functioning as expected. But cancer forced me to become deeply aware of my body, my symptoms, my intuition, and my voice. I learned that advocating for yourself is not optional—it is essential. No one knows your body better than you do.
Cancer also transformed me emotionally. It stripped away the superficial and forced me to focus on what truly matters. It made me stronger, but not in the cliché way people often describe strength. It made me stronger because I had no choice but to face fear head-on. It taught me resilience, patience, humility, and gratitude in ways I never would have learned otherwise.
Out of this pain, something meaningful was born: Evoluciona.
Cancer took a lot from me, but it also gave me clarity. It taught me that life is fragile and precious. It taught me not to wait for “someday” to pursue what matters. It taught me that our scars—physical and emotional—tell stories of survival, not weakness.
Today, I am not the same person I was before my diagnosis. Cancer changed me permanently. But not all change is loss. Some change is transformation.
I am more aware. More compassionate. More intentional. More fearless in using my voice. More committed to living with purpose.
If there is one message I want others to take from my story, it is this: listen to your body, trust yourself, and advocate fiercely for your health. Your voice matters. Your instincts matter. And if you are in the middle of your own battle right now, know this—you are stronger than you realize.
Cancer may change you, but it does not define you.
I am a survivor. I am an advocate. I am a woman transformed by pain, purpose, and perseverance.
And this is only the beginning of my story.
