As I joined online breast cancer groups and spoke to women across the world, my perspective began to shift. I read about women who went alone for double mastectomies, with no one to sit beside them or even call to ask how they were. I also heard stories of partners who walked away because they could not handle the illness—and, in contrast, of people who had just started dating yet stayed through every chemo session and surgery.​

In that mix of stories, I realized how incredibly fortunate I was. My family stood by me like a wall: my twin sister dropped everything and flew to be with me without a second thought, my husband, my sister‑in‑law Annu, and my brother‑in‑law Neil showed up for appointments, decisions, childcare, and a thousand small acts of support that held our lives together when I could not. Watching Annu care for Aria and keep her world as normal as possible is something I will always be grateful for.

At the same time, cancer gently exposed some hard truths. I did lose a few people I once called friends, and later understood that some of those connections were more about the access and influence that came with my extended family than about me. It hurt, but it also made the genuine relationships in my life shine even more clearly.

I can’t thank God enough for the friends who became family during this time. Their messages, meals, and simple “I’m here” check‑ins held me together in ways they will probably never fully realize.

At some point, I knew I had to move from the endless “Why me?”—Why did this happen, what did I do wrong, why do others seem to have an easier life?—to “What now?” What is the best way to respond, what choices can I make today so I don’t look back with regret on the hardest chapter of my life?

Really it was the support group that I had which enabled me to move from “Why me” to “What now”.

Continue Reading: Rebuilding my inner world again