For the whole breast cancer community, especially those living with metastatic disease.

If you’ve been diagnosed with breast cancer – at any stage – you’ve probably heard it all:

At first, these phrases sound like encouragement (and we can all use some encouragement in our lives), but there’s a time and place. These phrases are meant to uplift. A gesture of hope. I know-because I’ve said them too.

To others. To myself. On my own social media.

Before I really understood what it meant to live with an incurable illness, I clung close to those well-meaning phrases. I told other people to “stay strong,” posted the pink ribbons, shared the inspirational quotes, and hashtagged #goodvibesonly.

But once I was diagnosed with stage IV breast cancer-metastatic, incurable, lifelong – I realized how painful those words can be.

What Is Toxic Positivity?

Toxic positivity is the pressure to be cheerful, grateful, and upbeat, no matter what you’re going through. It’s the kind of thinking that says, “If you just think positive, everything will be fine.”

But the truth is, not everything is fine.

Not with side effects.

Not with scan results.

Not with the reality of living with cancer, especially MBC.

Toxic positivity doesn’t leave space for the full spectrum of human emotions: grief, fear, anger, fatigue, hopelessness. It skips over the truth and tries to replace it with a filter. But this isn’t Instagram-this is real life.

And being real is not the same as being negative.

Why It Hurts – Especially for Women and People of Color

For women, especially women of color, this kind of pressure can hit even harder. In many of our cultures, we’re raised to “be strong,” “keep the faith,” “never complain,” and always put others first.

As a Latina, I have felt this firsthand. We’re expected to suffer silently, to stay resilient, to be warriors in the name of our families, our culture, our faith. Vulnerability can feel like betrayal. Expressing sadness or fear is often seen as weakness or a lack of gratitude.

But cancer doesn’t care about how strong you are. And we should never be made to feel guilty for having real emotions.

When someone says “Just pray about it” or “Don’t speak that negativity,” they might mean well, but it can feel like they’re ignoring the depth of what we’re living through. And for those of us with MBC, the depth is bottomless.

I’m “Strong” But I’m Also Tired

The phrase “You’re so strong!” gets thrown around a lot in the breast cancer community. I know it’s meant to uplift (who doesn’t love getting hyped up?), but it can also feel like a burden.

Sometimes, I don’t want to be strong. I want to fall apart. I want to be held. I want to be heard without having to put on a brave face. 

I didn’t choose this strength. I had to adapt to survive.
Real strength isn’t smiling through the pain. It’s saying “I’m struggling” and still showing up anyway.

We Need Better Support for All of Us

The good news is: we can do better.

We can all shift away from toxic positivity and create more honest, supportive spaces for one another in this community. Whether you’re early-stage, newly diagnosed, in remission, living with MBC, or somewhere in between, this message is for you.

Here are some phrases that actually help:

“That sounds really hard. I’m here with you.”
“You don’t have to be strong right now.”
“It’s okay to feel whatever you’re feeling.”
“Do you want to vent, or do you want a distraction?”
“I can’t fix this, but I won’t disappear.”

These words don’t erase what we’re going through. They honor it. And that is everything.

Let Us Be Real

Breast cancer is not a single narrative. It’s not pink ribbons and survival stories alone. It’s a complex, layered, often devastating experience, especially for those of us living with MBC, who know there is no finish line. There is no “after.” There is just life with cancer.

Some days are hopeful and light. Some days are lonely, dark, and full of fear. Both deserve space. Both deserve to be seen.

I’ve been living with metastatic breast cancer for over seven years. And in that time, I’ve learned to stop performing positivity. I’ve learned to speak my truth, even when it’s uncomfortable. And I’ve learned that there is power in naming the hard things.

This isn’t about being negative-it’s about being real.

So let’s stop telling people to “stay strong” or “look on the bright side” when what they really need is truth, empathy, and presence. 

Let’s hold space for the whole, messy, beautiful, human experience of breast cancer. 

That, to me, is real support.That is love.