The Loneliness No One Talks About
One of the biggest surprises on this journey of cancer has been the loneliness.
Not because I don’t have support. I do. Incredible support.
But because some parts of this experience are simply yours alone.
No one knows what it feels like to sit in your body, make your decisions, or face your own mortality.
They can care deeply. They can show up.
But they can’t feel it the way you do.
And that’s where the loneliness lives.
I’ve also seen how uncomfortable this can be for others. When people don’t know what to say, they either avoid you… or say something they think will help, but doesn’t.
Here’s what I’ve learned:
You don’t need perfect words.
You don’t need to fix anything.
The most powerful support is often the simplest:
“I don’t have the words, but I’m here.”
Over the past few years, it hasn’t been big gestures that carried me through.
It’s been the quiet ones.
A simple message.
A quick check-in with no expectation to reply.
The space to just be however I needed to be that day.
Yes, this journey can feel lonely.
But when people show up with honesty, presence, and no pressure to “make it better”…
That loneliness softens.
—
From my memoir Dancing with Cancer
A story of grit, gratitude, and a little bit of rebellion
