10/18/2026
"But you survived."
I know I did.
I was there for every terrifying moment it took to get here.
I remember the fear, the pain, the desperation, and the days when I genuinely wondered how much more my body could endure.
I remember lying awake wondering if the treatments meant to save my life were going to leave me with a life I barely recognized.
And I remember how desperately I wanted to survive.
So believe me, I haven't forgotten that I'm still here.
But sometimes I wish people understood that surviving something doesn't erase what it took from you.
It doesn't give you back the parts of your body that no longer function the way they once did. It doesn't undo the trauma or quiet the thoughts that creep in when another unfamiliar symptom appears.
It doesn't return the months spent suffering, the peace of mind you once had, or the innocence of believing that a serious illness was something that happened to other people.
And it certainly doesn't mean every day afterward is filled with happiness and gratitude.
Some days I'm overwhelmed by how beautiful it is to still be alive.
Other days I'm overwhelmed by how much surviving has changed my life.
And there are days when both feelings exist so intensely that I don't even know what to do with them.
When someone tells me, "But you survived," I know they probably mean well.
But sometimes those three words feel like they're asking me to stop talking about everything else.
As though being alive should be enough to silence the grief.
As though the outcome somehow cancels out the experience.
I survived cancer. But I also had to live through it. And I'm still living with parts of it.
I don't need to be reminded that I survived.
I need people to understand that survival was never going to be the end of the story.
Jessica's Healing Journey 💙
