In February of 2020, I found a lump while showering. Despite being 33, with no history of breast cancer in my family, my gut told me this was serious. I called my doctor, who advised me to wait a few months, as it was likely hormonal. Trusting my gut, I exaggerated my symptoms to be seen the next day.

 After a 2-week whirlwind of testing, I was diagnosed with stage II, grade 3, triple-positive breast cancer, aggressive but curable. I immediately started the first cycle of chemo while waiting for the PET scan results. Three weeks later, my world fell apart again when those results showed the cancer had spread to my sternum. It was now stage IV, metastatic breast cancer; incurable and with an average survival of just 3-5 years. My team and I decided to continue treating it aggressively. 

Throughout 2020, I completed eight cycles of chemo, a double mastectomy/reconstruction, and an oophorectomy, ultimately ending the year with scans showing I was NED; No Evidence of Disease. This is the closest a stage IV patient can get to remission. In the 5.5 years since, I’ve remained NED, receiving treatment every 3 weeks. Stage IV breast cancer is terminal; our only options lie in the finite therapies available and the hope that more options are developed through research. I’ve found purpose in advocacy, having the opportunity to use my story to bring awareness to the reality of stage IV cancer, while helping to fund the research so desperately needed. 

I’ve walked alongside fellow thrivers in New York and Milan Fashion Weeks, co-hosted a podcast, been featured in an MBC print campaign, and served as a Patient Advocate for the very company that developed the drug keeping me alive. I refuse to let a terminal illness define me. Finding ways to channel pain into purpose has given me the ability to write my own breast cancer story; one of adversity, struggle, and pain, but most of all, one of hope.