The Lessons I Didn’t Know I Needed

The sun rises and sets every single day. Some days are beautiful, and some are just angry. It reminds me to take each day one at a time, because both the beautiful and the angry moments have a way of shaping our days—if we let them.

I have learned the nuances of each of my immediate family members, their anxieties, and what makes them succeed. I have known them for years, but I have learned them more deeply in these past months, because your ears listen better when you have cancer. You go all in on everything you hear. It doesn’t mean I was wrong before—just too busy to truly listen. Now I make sure to set those too-busy boundaries.

I mentioned that you go all in on listening. The key is also learning how to protect that. It’s not always simple in the current state of things, but I’ve learned to say things like, “I appreciate your opinion, but I need that out of my house. I need to keep this space free of toxicity for my health.” It stops the political back-and-forth and the gossip. It doesn’t mean I don’t have opinions; I just can’t afford to let them weigh on me right now. Protecting that space has brought me a tremendous amount of peace.

You are enough as you are. If you love something, give it your all. That is your true job. And if you have the capacity to love more—someone or something else—add it to your plate, but never at the expense of what you already love. Never let that go. That is your purpose, and that is your person.

As a perfectionist, a Type A personality who thrives when thrown into hard times and asked to lead through them, I loved being in control of the scene. I did well there. I could line people up as needed, train them to be as capable as I was, stay involved in their careers, and feel thrilled at their successes. It was my happy place.

Now I realize that approach may not be the one I should carry anymore. I have zero control over this cancer. The only control I have is in the choices I make—to support my bloodwork through nutrition, to build strength, and to take care of myself the best I can. I can’t operate the way I used to, because now energy has to be considered. I have to organize my time carefully, be aware of what I’m saying yes to, and lead with an understanding of everything involved—especially my role. Through it all, I try to remember who I am and what I bring to the table.

I also now understand what once made me dislike church. I grew up Roman Catholic. We sang quietly, listened to those old organs, and sometimes it felt like the hour went by in nanoseconds—usually when something exciting was waiting afterward, like Easter baskets or Christmas celebrations. We went every week, so I’m sure I had a million reasons as a kid. I remember seeing Sister Act and wondering why I didn’t get to go to a fun church like that. But now I’ve discovered that what I truly love is the quiet of prayer. Sometimes that’s in church, sometimes in a hospital room, at a holy shrine, and sometimes even in a ladies’ room. My view of religion has changed. I have seen moments that feel like true interventions—more than once. My prayers now are simple: handing God the things I cannot carry, expressing gratitude, and asking for strength. Now that prayer isn’t something interrupting my day like it did when I was six, I feel calm and relaxed, no longer trying to control what I can’t. He seems to be doing a fine job handling things, so I’ll keep Him on my team—and let Him lead.

And one thing I know for certain—you are never going to succeed alone. You need a business network, a community network, and a solid family. Those relationships make life richer, and they help you face every battle. I was reminded how often I offered help to others and how good it made me feel when someone accepted it—like they trusted me. Now I realize that when I allow others to help me, I’m giving them that same gift.

Cancer didn’t just change my health—it changed how I see everything. It slowed me down enough to listen, to protect my peace, to lean on people who love me, and to trust God with the things I cannot control. I still care about the same things, and I’m still the same driven person, but now I move through life with a little more intention and a lot more gratitude. Each day may still bring beautiful moments and angry ones, but I’ve learned that both belong. And if I keep listening, keep loving, keep trusting, and keep showing up with the people who stand beside me, then that is more than enough.