By: Sara Jesus, Thyroid Cancer 

The day I was diagnosed with cancer, at just 18 years old, is one I will never forget. I came home from school to find my mom in tears, and at that moment, I already knew: the results of my biopsy had arrived. The hardest part wasn’t receiving the diagnosis, but staying strong for my mom and never allowing myself to show weakness. I will always remember the words printed on that paper: Papillary Carcinoma.

I felt like my best years were taken away from me. I remember sitting in my best friend’s house watching a series and thinking, “Why am I even watching this if I’ll never be able to see the next season?” But I never said it out loud. I remember how overwhelming group appointments felt. I was too afraid to ask questions, terrified of the answers I might receive.  I forbid my family from searching the internet for answers because I was afraid of what they might find. I didn’t want them to suffer with me, to read worst-case scenarios and feel the same fear I was trying so hard to suppress. Isolation due to radiation was some of the worst parts of my treatment. I truly felt alone.

But things changed with time. Now, I need to know everything regarding my diagnosis and care. I don’t keep my fears bottled up. I dove into something I love, books, to find an outlet. This is all part of my message I want to share: don’t keep your fears bottled up. Don’t hesitate to ask for help when you need it. I used to believe I could handle everything on my own, but I couldn’t. And I’m not ashamed to say that I go to therapy. As a book lover, I have to say that books saved me. They gave me an escape when I needed it most. Finding something you love and letting it take you away, even just for a little while, was how I, personally, got through it.

Cancer changed my life in ways I never expected. It took away my sense of certainty, my best years, and at times, even my hope. It also taught me resilience. I learned that it’s okay to ask for help, that fear loses power when spoken out loud, and that finding joy – whether in books, therapy, or the small moments – can be a lifeline.

For years, January 9th was a day of celebration; the day I felt I had won. But in 2025, for the first time in eight years, I didn’t celebrate. The cancer came back. As much as I had always feared this moment, now that it’s here, I realize I’m stronger and more prepared to face it than ever before.

Now, as I face this battle once again, I know I am not the same person I was at 18. I am stronger, wiser, and more prepared. This journey is not just about survival; it’s about living, truly living, despite the fear. And that’s exactly what I intend to do. One of the things that has helped me most is knowing I’m not alone. There is so much power in community, in sharing our stories, and in reminding each other that we are understood and heard.