I was recently asked if I ever felt the need to separate myself from the breast cancer community, in an effort to not feel “defined by my diagnosis.”

I thought it was an interesting question and one I’ve never really given much thought to.

My breast cancer diagnosis was undeniably a defining moment in my life, but it has no more defined me than being a “mother,” “sister” or “woman.”

I’ve always felt an obligation to share my story in hopes of helping someone else heal.

Whether I am sharing about becoming a mother at a young age, going through a divorce, or my diagnosis—I know my experiences allow me to help others as they go through.

We’ve all heard the saying “Hurt people, hurt people.” I believe the same is true of healed people.

Everyone wants to know there’s someone who “gets it.” After all, isn’t that why support groups exist?

When I was diagnosed with breast cancer at the age of 28, I felt no one understood what I was going through. Even though my mom had battled breast cancer, she was 48 with adult children and over two decades of marriage under her belt.

I was always the youngest person in the cancer center.I had two young children (ages 9 and 2) and I didn’t know how to talk to them about my diagnosis. I was in the early stages of a new relationship and I wasn’t sure how to explain all the changes I was going through physically and emotionally.

It would have been amazing to have someone who saw me and really understood what I was going through.

I share my story in hopes of being the person I needed to someone else.

I share my story to be a source of hope for someone else who is struggling with their diagnosis.

I share my story because I want others to feel seen.

I am a firm believer that we are the most effective in the areas where we have been the most affected.

There is so much power in sharing your story; it not only helps you heal, but it empowers others to do the same.

Nothing you’ve gone through is ever wasted; you grow and heal, and you help others heal along the way.