Why I needed silence before I could find the words to share my story.
People often ask me why I speak so openly about my breast cancer journey.
It’s a fair question.
If you follow me on social media today, you may see me sharing my experiences, talking about what I’ve learned, or encouraging women to become more informed about their health.
But what you may not know is that I wasn’t always comfortable talking about my diagnosis.
In fact, when this journey first began, I wanted very little conversation about it at all.
And looking back, I understand why.
I Needed Time Before I Needed Conversation
When I received my breast cancer diagnosis on April 5, 2024, I was devastated.
I was shocked. Overwhelmed. Numb.
I was trying to process something I never imagined I would have to face.
Suddenly, there were medical appointments, unfamiliar terminology, decisions to make, and questions I didn’t know how to answer.
And sometimes, I didn’t even know what questions I should be asking.
I knew people cared about me. I knew they would want to check on me, pray for me, and understand what was happening.
But I wasn’t ready for all of that.
I didn’t have the emotional capacity to explain something I was still trying to understand myself.
So I made a decision to keep my circle small.
That circle was my immediate family.
I needed people around me who could help me remain positive, give me space when I needed it, and simply be there without expecting me to explain everything.
I needed to protect my peace.
And for that season, protecting my peace meant being quiet.
Not because I was ashamed.
Not because I didn’t appreciate the people who loved me.
But because I needed time to gather myself.
Sometimes people assume that when someone doesn’t talk about what they’re going through, they’re shutting others out.
But silence isn’t always about shutting people out.
Sometimes it’s about trying to hear your own thoughts.
Sometimes it’s about having a moment to pray without interruption.
And sometimes it’s about finding enough strength to face what is directly in front of you before trying to explain it to the rest of the world.
That’s where I was.
There Were Things I Had to Work Through Privately
On June 14, 2024, I underwent a double mastectomy.
The surgery was a major part of my journey, but the healing that followed involved so much more than recovering physically.
My body had changed.
My life had changed.
And I was trying to understand what those changes meant for me.
I’ve shared before how difficult it was during those first months to look at myself in the mirror.
That experience taught me something about healing.
You cannot always put a timetable on it.
You cannot assume that because someone looks fine, they feel fine.
And you cannot expect every woman to process a breast cancer diagnosis in the same way.
I needed to work through some things without an audience.
I needed to be honest with myself about what I was feeling.
I needed my faith.
I needed my family.
And I needed time.
I’m thankful I gave myself permission to have all of those things.
Something Began to Change
As I continued healing, I found myself thinking about everything I had experienced.
I thought about the decisions I’d had to make.
The things I’d learned.
The conversations with my doctors.
The questions I wished I’d known to ask sooner.
And I began to think about other women who might one day find themselves facing a diagnosis.
I remembered how overwhelming those early days had been for me.
How much information there was to understand.
How frightening it could be to make decisions when everything felt unfamiliar.
And I realized something.
There were things I had learned through my experience that might be helpful to somebody else.
I didn’t have to be a medical expert.
I didn’t have to know everything.
And I certainly didn’t have to pretend that I’d handled every moment perfectly.
I could simply share what I had experienced.
What I’d learned.
What I wished I’d known.
And perhaps something in my experience would help another woman feel more prepared to ask questions about her own care.
That thought stayed with me.
And little by little, I became more comfortable talking about my journey.
It wasn’t an overnight transformation.
I didn’t suddenly become fearless or decide that every detail of my life needed to be shared.
I simply began to recognize that there was value in talking about some of the things I’d once needed to process privately.
I Still Believe in the Right to Privacy
One thing I want to make very clear is that I don’t believe every woman has to share her breast cancer experience publicly.
I would never want someone to feel that remaining private means she’s doing something wrong.
I know what it feels like to need that privacy.
I lived it.
And I believe every woman deserves the freedom to decide what she wants to share, when she wants to share it, and with whom.
There is no single right way to walk through a breast cancer diagnosis.
Some women find comfort in talking.
Others find comfort in keeping their experiences close.
Some may share later.
And some may never choose to share publicly at all.
I respect that.
My decision to become more open is simply that—my decision.
It’s where my own journey has brought me.
The Women Coming Behind Me
As a grandmother, I think often about what I want my granddaughters to know.
Breast cancer is part of our family history.
And I want them to have more than the knowledge that their grandmother was diagnosed with it.
I want them to understand the importance of knowing their health history.
I want them to know that it’s okay to ask questions when they don’t understand something.
That they can ask their doctors to explain their options.
That they can seek information and participate in decisions about their health.
I want them to inherit knowledge, not unanswered questions.
And I think about other women, too.
Women who may be newly diagnosed.
Women who are trying to understand their treatment options.
Women who may be sitting at home with questions they haven’t yet found the courage or the words to ask.
I remember being that woman who didn’t have all the answers.
And that memory is one of the reasons I share what I’ve learned.
So, Why Do I Speak So Openly?
Because I know what it feels like to be overwhelmed.
Because I remember what it was like to have more questions than answers.
Because I understand that healing is personal, and it doesn’t always happen on the schedule we expect.
And because I believe that something I’ve experienced might help another woman feel less alone or more informed.
That’s really what it comes down to for me.
If sharing my experience helps even one woman think of a question she hadn’t considered, learn about a resource she didn’t know existed, or feel more confident having a conversation about her care, then my voice has served a purpose.
I didn’t start this journey fighting out loud.
I started it quietly, surrounded by my family, trying to understand what had happened to me.
I needed that season.
I don’t regret it.
And I don’t see it as a contradiction that today I choose to speak more openly.
Both decisions came from what I needed and what I believed was right for me at the time.
I am still learning.
Still healing in different ways.
Still discovering things about myself along the way.
But today, I choose to fight out loud.
Not because every woman has to tell her story, but because I’ve decided to use mine to help someone else.
And if my voice reaches even one woman who needs information, encouragement, or simply the reassurance that she can navigate this journey in her own way, then I’m thankful I chose to share.
A Glimpse Into My Healing Journey
As I reflect on how far I’ve come, I want to share something personal.
I had the opportunity to participate in the I Am Worthy campaign, by Katrina Cross-Daniels Photography, where I shared a part of my breast cancer journey and what it meant to begin seeing myself differently after surgery.
This video captures a chapter of my life when I was still learning, healing, and embracing the woman I was becoming.
I’m sharing it here because sometimes our stories are told not only through the words we write, but through the moments we find the courage to speak.
Watch my I Am Worthy story below. 💗
I Am Worthy | My Breast Cancer Journey, Healing & Self-Worth | Deb Davis
— Deb Davis 💗