Every January, I brace myself.
It’s the month that changed my life forever the month in 2017 when I was hospitalized, terrified, and without answers. I remember the loneliness, the uncertainty, and the pain that consumed me as I waited for a diagnosis. I didn’t know then that I was facing stage four lymphoma cancer. I just knew I was trapped in a cycle of fear, with no roadmap forward.
Even now, years later, January still makes my stomach turn. No matter how much time passes, my heart races as the memories creep back in. It’s like my body instinctively remembers the fear before my mind even processes it.
I see my daughter, signing for floral deliveries at the hospital, trying to bring brightness to my darkest days. I see videos of us singing together, finding comfort in music when words weren’t enough. I see my husband bringing me dinner, determined to make a hospital room feel a little more like home. And then, I see myself—staring into the mirror, tears streaming down my face, trying to understand why I was in so much pain. Those moments are inevitable to return every January, uninvited but impossible to ignore.
But through it all, I’m still here.
January 25th marks the anniversary of my diagnosis, the day my world flipped upside down. It was the moment I had to make a choice to fight or to surrender. I fought. I endured. I survived. And now, I stand on the other side, grateful beyond words. Grateful for my life. Grateful for my second chance. Grateful that my story can serve as hope for someone else who is fighting their own battle.
Every January, I hold my breath, just trying to make it through. And every year, I do. I survive the memories. I suvive the pain. I survive the weight of what this month represents.
So, today, I raise a glass to myself and to every survivor who understands what it means to endure. Cheers to ano her January that I have survived. Cheers to life, to resilience, and to the hope that keeps us moving forward.
If you are in the middle of your fight, I want you to know there is life beyond the pain. There is strength within you that you haven’t even discovered yet. Keep going. Keep believing. And one day, you too will raise a glass and say, “I survived.”
With love and gratitude,
Shanee’