07/12/2025
20,950. Thatās how many people live with metastatic breast cancer in Australia.
Last week I was in Canberra for a huge moment with BCNA. We were at Parliament House to announce that finally, people living with metastatic breast cancer had been counted in Australia. Counted. Seen. A world first. Something the community has been fighting for over decades.
Two years ago, I sat downstairs in that same building and listened to how we still werenāt counted. How weād been invisible in our own healthcare system. I honestly didnāt think Iād live to see the day I became a number that mattered. And now Australia is the first country in the world to do it?! WILD. Hopefully what we started in London with the UK and Canada means they wonāt be far behind.
And thenā¦ they asked me to be on the panel. No big deal, just casually represent our MBC community during one of the biggest announcements in this space. What would I even say? All I had was lived experience; the experts could speak to the numbers, but none could speak to what it feels like.
To how lonely this is. How cruel it is to face your mortality before 30. The endless appointments, medications, side effects, and the dreams you let go of because life wonāt be long enough. But also: tiny pockets of hope. A new treatment buying time. Small joys that feel huge when youāre living on borrowed time. Tears of relief when scans are stable. The eye roll when someone says youāre ātoo young for thisā. Now, maybe, weāll finally get systemic, social, political support because we count.
But the truth is: I felt like I didnāt deserve to be there. Like I havenāt shouted loud enough or been bold enough. This year has been a tug-of-war between advocating, hiding, and being absolutely exhausted. My body has felt slower and more vulnerable than ever.
An hour before the event, I was horizontal on the bed; sweating, nauseous, dizzy with anxiety, dealing with thrush (because of course). Minutes from pulling out. It all felt too much. But I showed up! Just like Iām showing up posting this now. I get there in my own time, in my own way. And thatās what really ācountsā
Being counted isnāt the end. Itās the beginning of what comes next. ā¬ļø
