The Group I Never Wanted to Join

In June, I became a member of a group I never wanted to join.

The thing is, I already knew quite a few members. They are friends and women I love. Women who, without knowing it at the time, would become incredibly important in how I handled becoming a member myself.

In May, I went for my yearly mammogram. When they called me back a few days later to say that they saw something, I wasn't nervous at first because I have dense breast tissue and I'd been called back before, many years ago, and it turned out to be nothing.

So I thought this would probably be the same. However, this time it wasn't.

In June, I got the call that it was breast cancer.

I remember when I got the call I was trying to take notes while the doctor was talking to me, but I literally felt like I was having an out-of-body experience. I could hear the words, but I wasn't processing them. Later, when I was trying to explain everything to a friend, I couldn't even read my own handwriting.

I instantly started thinking: Am I going to die? Am I going to see my son grow up and continue to be a part of his life? It was an overwhelming feeling.

Those were the thoughts swirling around in my head.

One of the first people I called was a friend who had already been through breast cancer. She basically said, "Look, you're going to be okay. You've got this." And then she started explaining things to me in a way that I could actually hear and understand.

She brought me back down to earth and seriously saved me from falling into a doom spiral. If I didn’t have that conversation with her I would have searched online and who knows what would have happened.

Over the next few weeks, other good friends of mine who have had breast cancer did the same thing. They answered my questions. They gave me advice. They told me about their experiences. They checked in on me. They understood things without me having to explain them.

And all of this brought me back to the first informal lunch we had for Vibrant & Visible.

It was at Nancy's house when we were just starting this community. There were about 11 women sitting around the table, and I remember realizing that almost half of them had had breast cancer.

I couldn't believe it.

And throughout our Vibrant & Visible events, I've met even more women who have shared their stories.

It wasn't until I was on the other side of that phone call myself that I realized just how important it is for women to share these stories.

Because without them, I would not have handled this situation as well as I have. I 100% believe that my experience would have totally been different and not for the better

Instead of disappearing down some horrible rabbit hole on the internet, I listened to the women I trusted. I listened to my doctors. When I wanted to learn more, I went to reputable sources that were specific to my diagnosis.

And I was able to take it one step at a time because I had this support network of women who had breast cancer and all of the amazing women in my life who never had breast cancer but could understand and provide love and support.

I remember one of my doctors saying to me, "Wow, you're really taking this well." And honestly, that was because of these women.

They had already been where I was. They were generous enough to share their experiences with me. And they helped me keep my mind from going to all the places it could have gone.

I want to thank all of them from the bottom of my heart. Taking calls, going to the dr’s with me, calling me, sending me care packages, reaching out, sending flowers and cards. It was such a beautiful reminder of the power of love and friendship we all need and how important sharing our stories really is.

I was very fortunate. My cancer was caught early and was small. I had surgery on July 7, and I just finished my last round of radiation. I still have treatment ahead of me and medication that will become part of my life for the next several years.

I'm not completely finished with all of this yet, but I know I'm going to be okay.

And I also know that other women get very different news than I did. I don't take my diagnosis or my outcome for granted.

On September 17, I turned 55 and I think I would have had a lot to say about turning 55 before this summer and before this experience. I spend a huge amount of time thinking about women and aging and what it means to enter this part of our lives.

Riding my bike home from my last day of radiation.

But 55 feels different to me now because this diagnosis made me realize life is short and we never know what may happen.

Having a diagnosis like this sobers you in a way about your life.

I've always known intellectually that you can't put everything off until later. We all know that. We say it all the time (I say it all the time!). But this time it’s a more profound reality.

I know now that my health is a priority. The people I love are a priority. The work I care about matters. The things I still want to learn and make and experience matter.

These are things I don't want to keep putting off.

And I also learned a lot more about community.

Without these women, this summer would have been a very different and much more difficult experience for me. Their willingness to talk openly with me and support me changed the way I was able to face this.

The medical care obviously mattered. But so did my mindset. And these women had an enormous impact on that part of my experience and I thank them all from the bottom of my heart.

That's why I'm sharing this now.

Maybe another woman reading this has been through breast cancer and hasn't talked about it very much. Maybe sharing her experience someday will help another woman who has just gotten that phone call.

Or maybe another woman will get that call and remember that I've been through it too.

If that happens, I hope she knows she can call me.

Because I would be honored to give another woman even a little bit of the support that these women gave me.

The Mixed Messages Women Receive About Aging

Kim Conant | Personal Brand Studio ‍