Eight years cancer-free… and some days it still feels unreal.

There are mornings when I wake up and have to remind myself that the fight is over — that the scans are clear, the treatments are done, and the word survivor truly belongs to me. For so long, cancer defined every thought, every plan, every fear. It lived in waiting rooms, test results, sleepless nights, and quiet prayers whispered when no one else was listening.

Even now, eight years later, the memories haven’t disappeared. They show up in unexpected moments — a hospital smell, a passing comment, a sudden ache that makes my heart pause. Healing isn’t just about the body; it’s about teaching your mind and soul that it’s safe to breathe again.

But alongside those memories lives something stronger. Gratitude. Perspective. A deep appreciation for ordinary days that once felt uncertain. Every laugh, every sunrise, every simple moment carries a weight of meaning I didn’t understand before.

Eight years cancer-free isn’t just a number.
It’s proof of resilience.
It’s survival turning into life.
And even if it still feels unreal sometimes — I’m here, I’m living, and that miracle never gets old.