Introduction
There are some people in life whose strength quietly takes your breath away — people who walk through unimaginable storms and somehow still find light in the darkness.
Sarah is one of those extraordinary people who has faced more challenges than most of us could ever imagine, and yet continues to meet life with courage, grace, and heart.
This is her story — one of resilience, hope, and learning to dance in the rain. I feel honoured to share her words here as the first guest post on my blog.
My hope is that by sharing stories like hers, others who are walking through hard times will find comfort, connection, and a reminder that they’re not alone.
Learning to Dance in the Rain
Sometimes life doesn’t just throw one storm at you — it sends a whole season of them. And when you’re caught in the middle, you realise that strength isn’t something you’re born with — it’s something you discover when life gives you no choice.
The First Storm
In 2013, while pregnant with my first son, I was diagnosed with a rare breast cancer called liposarcoma.
Two surgeries later — all while carrying a tiny life inside me — I learned that strength isn’t built in comfort. It rises when you have everything to lose and someone to fight for.
The fear and trauma of my diagnosis melted away the moment I held my baby for the first time. My son became my focus, my joy, and my reason to keep moving forward.
Three years later, after my second son was born, I faced another cancer in the same breast. I underwent a double mastectomy and reconstruction. Genetic testing then revealed I carry Li-Fraumeni Syndrome, a gene mutation that makes me high risk for developing multiple cancers.
From that point on, my life became a rhythm of MRIs, biopsies, surgeries, and brief stretches of normal life in between.
The Ovarian Cancer Diagnosis
In 2023, another blow came. A surveillance MRI picked up a complex cyst on my ovary. Surgery confirmed ovarian cancer — one of the deadliest gynecological cancers.
Six rounds of chemotherapy followed. I lost my hair after the first cycle.
My husband had just started a new job that required travel, and I was beginning a new job myself. Various members of my family flew in from overseas to care for me and my boys after each round.
Their support was my lifeline.
Halfway through treatment, my thyroid lit up on a PET scan. Multiple biopsies and surgeries later, I was diagnosed with thyroid cancer. Then came a kidney infection, hospital stays, COVID, and another major surgery.
I made and lost friends along the way — friends who were facing the same battle. Why did they lose their lives and I am still here?
And now, I walk beside a close family member who faces their own cancer battle. Wave after wave — and somehow, I’m still standing.
Finding Purpose in the Chaos
I continued working during chemo, taking time off only for treatment weeks. It grounded me, gave me purpose, and reminded me I was still me — not just a patient.
When it all became too much, I pulled back from the world. We moved house, my boys started a new school — a fresh start — and slowly, I rebuilt.
Since I had the total hysterectomy, I entered surgical menopause and endured more hospital stays for other things — but I’ve also found quiet strength and profound gratitude during this time.
What Cancer Has Taught Me
This journey stripped life back to its truth.
Trivial things that used to matter simply don’t anymore.
I’ve learned to look for the silver linings.
Not everyone knows what to say or how to help — and that’s okay. What truly helped heal me was love and human connection.
My children have been my reason to keep going.
My family, my anchor. And gratitude — that’s been everything.
Resilience isn’t pretending everything’s fine. It’s allowing yourself to feel it all — to pause, to rest, and to rise again. Healing isn’t linear. Some days are good, others are unbearable — and that’s okay.
If I Could Offer One Piece of Advice
Take one step at a time. Don’t wait for the storm to pass.
You don’t have to be perfect or strong every day. You just have to keep showing up — and when the rain comes,
learn to dance in it.
Closing Thoughts
Cancer has taken so much from me — my peace, my certainty, my womanhood, my sense of safety. But it’s also given me something rare: perspective.
I’ve learned that courage isn’t loud. Sometimes it’s a quiet whisper that says, “Try again tomorrow.”
So if you’re walking through your own storm, know this — you are stronger than you think, more loved than you realise, and even in the darkest moments, there’s still beauty to be found in the rain.
Closing Note
I’m so grateful to my amazing friend Sarah for letting me share her story here. She’s been through so much, and yet she continues to face life with such courage and heart — she truly inspires me every single day.
If you’re in the middle of your own storm right now, I hope her words bring you comfort and remind you that you’re not alone. And if you’ve walked through something tough and come out the other side, I’d love to share your story too.
Because when we open up about the hard stuff, we help each other heal — and we remind one another that even in the rain, there’s still light to be found when we’re learning to dance in the rain.
