Release

There’s not a day that goes by where I don’t think about cancer. I haven’t written here in quite some time because the day-to-day of living with cancer is fairly boring. I haven’t had another scan or any bloodwork done, lately, either.

Yes, I’ve been avoiding it.

I knew that I wasn’t doing as much as I should have been doing as far as supporting my body’s healing. I haven’t fallen totally off the wagon, just slipped a little bit here and there into one or two old habits. I’m recommitting myself to healing, now, and working toward a sustainable way to do that. I was trying to find smaller, day-to-day things I could do consistently to support my health. Some seem to be working. Some didn’t.

My therapist recommended that if I was feeling lost or overwhelmed, I should go back to what was working when it was working. So I’ve been attempting to do that. I’ve re-engaged with my care team at Brookfield Health and Wellness, I’ve gotten some direction, and I’m developing a care plan that I hope will be both affordable and sustainable going forward.

In the meantime, I’ve been continuing to work my full-time job at Connect Chiropractic, seek out speaking and emceeing opportunities and expand my business offerings into the realm of publishing. I took a solo trip to Florida to visit my parents in early February and recently returned from a weekend in Chicago—where I attended Cre8tive Con and told my story on stage for the first time.

Last fall, I decided that it was time to tell my story to the world. I’ve been working with WHEN Stories™ since the beginning almost two years ago, and I’ve seen the powerful shifts that happen to speakers and audiences when stories are told boldly and vulnerably on our stage. Working with Wendy Babcock, my very best friend in life and in business, I knew that my story would resonate from the WHEN stage, so I chose to jump into the February 2026 cohort.

WHEN Stories™ doesn’t just put a speaker on a stage. The process involves six weeks of group coaching with Wendy to develop our talks. We form bonds. We give feedback. We ask and answer tough questions.

In the process of crafting my WHEN Story, I found myself digging deep. Facing some things about my beliefs that I didn’t always want to look at. Learning things about myself that didn’t paint me in a very flattering light. Not all of the made it into the final talk, but everything I went through influenced what I said on stage.

On March 22nd at 7:00pm central, my story will premiere on YouTube. I don’t know what will happen after that. And I’m honestly a little bit nervous about “going public” in a different way. I’ve been visible for a long time in for my business, and even though this is also related to my professional brand, it’s so deeply personal and vulnerable that I’m not sure how it will resonate with people.

Some people might hear my story and want to talk to me about cancer.

Some people might hear my story and want to work with me.

Some people might hear my story and want to read the book that I’m still writing.

Some people might hear my story and think that I’m using cancer for personal gain.

Some people might hear my story and disagree with my choices.

My hope is that people hear my story, gain a new perspective and get inspired to make choices that bring them closer to who they’re meant to be.

As I’ve continued to live with cancer every day, I have to make choices that support me. I’ve had to face worries about things outside of my control. I’ve had to release a lot of concerns that weren’t getting me anywhere good. And it’s been enlightening. And it’s been frustrating. And it’s been boring. And it’s been exhausting. And it’s been exciting, too.

Before I took the stage on February 22nd to speak my story out loud in front of everyone in the room, I broke down.

I had been pushing myself to memorize the talk I wrote, to perform my talk in a way that not only got the story out the way I wanted it told, but also reflected well on the business and brand that’s so dear to my heart and such a huge part of my life. As the WHEN Stories™ Director of Publishing, I put a lot of pressure on myself to be an impressive representative with my story. I don’t know if my story will be scrutinized harder than anyone else’s because I’m part of the team, but it felt like it would.

Putting less pressure on myself to perform has been part of the work I’ve been doing to heal for a long time.

With some deep breathing and presence from my support system, I was able to find release in those moments before the program started. I cried. I walked. I breathed. I let myself be guided. I let myself be held.

I had thought I could put off that release until after my story was told. I had been pushing myself to get to and through my stage moment. I told myself stories about when the appropriate time to release would be, missing the whole point that I need to honor my whole experience and allow what needs to happen to happen when it comes up instead of pushing it away. Saving emotion for an unspecified optimal later time that never comes.

Pushing harder got me nowhere. Actually, pushing harder got me cancer. I’m trying to be more gentle. Lean in. Flow. Accept unconditional love. Receive with gratitude and grace. Give from my excess, not my reserves. Release my stories, my attachments. And trust that sharing who I am, what I’ve been through, and how I’ve learned to see the world will bring me exactly what I need—no more, no less.


Thanks for following along with my journey. To support me in my healing, visit saradeacon.com/support for practical ways to help.

Sara DeaconComment