Celebrating 10 years as a Cancer Thriver

Never stop believing in your body’s ability to heal itself has been my mantra since January 22nd, 2015.

That day changed everything for me. There was Tracy B.C. (Before Cancer) and the Tracy after. Ironically, I loved that B.C. woman. She had been on a journey to heal her inner demons, insecurities, and pain—some of which stemmed from childhood struggles that many of us wrestle with. By the time I hit my 30s, I had come to terms with some deep truths I didn’t like about myself, the people I had hurt, and the challenge of forgiving myself. I believed I had climbed the mountain of regret, dropped the backpack of shame, and finally found my stride. Then I was knocked down—or rather thrown down the mountain—into an uncertainty I fought hard to escape, to no avail.

But this blog isn’t solely about my cancer story; it’s about the ten-year journey to where I am today.

In 2017, two years after my diagnosis, treatment, suffering, surgery, Philip’s multiple diagnoses, a wedding, and just chaos, I wrote: “Jesus, my heart before you today is angry. It feels like a red-hot coal, resembling a deep black hole. I am burning inside because the last two years have been such a difficult journey after achieving a place of peace and security. Cancer and Philip’s CRPS have robbed me, and I am so beaten that I have no fight left. I am spinning out of control, anticipating another disaster. How much more do I need to endure before you show up with an inhaler of oxygen? Please remind me who you are because I can’t see anymore.”

I wore a smile on my face but carried this pain inside for years.

As I walked into 2020, I sensed a shift; the years of therapy, life coaching, and self-loathing seemed behind me. I began sharing my story on TikTok, which helped me connect with others navigating the sting of grief. The thing about grief is that you think you’ve moved through it, cried enough, and then it bites you again. To this day, it serves as a beautiful reminder of my need to crawl into my daddy’s arms and simply BE STILL.

I suffer longer when I want my life to meet my expectations or when I believe I am powerless to change it.

Acceptance is truly the antidote to suffering, but sometimes it feels so tempting to hold onto pain. It’s like a cozy blanket, the victim mentality wrapping around me. There’s something alluring about playing mental tennis with my grievances and scrolling through social media while filling my bucket with jealousy and envy. Trust me, I indulge in these emotions from time to time. I miss my strong, lean figure in a bikini without a colostomy bag, the youthful desires and freedoms of intimacy, and the certainty of being healthy. Yet, I have gained so much more from acceptance and learning to find humor in what once seemed daunting.

Cancer is a race against time, and when you experience it, you realize that every second counts.

I knew I was no longer interested in spending any more time looking back at my losses; it was far more interesting to focus on my gains. I built a following on TikTok, hired a speaking coach, refined my story, became certified as a health practitioner and detox coach, and have helped hundreds of people achieve physical, emotional, and spiritual wellness.

The picture above is of my colorectal surgeon, Dr. Mac, and my last colonoscopy a few weeks ago. We are holding my boys' tassels from their high school graduation.

They were in 2nd and 4th grade when I was diagnosed with cancer, and I remember hoping I would make it to this moment. This was a different mountain to climb, but it also allowed me to reflect on the many mountains yet to come. I took a moment to breathe and appreciate the view, continuing my journey forward.

It’s okay that life didn’t turn out as I once thought it would; rarely does any life. I am so grateful for what I have and what is to come.

The next ten years look just as promising as the next ten minutes, and I will savor every moment.