From Fear to Freedom: My BRCA2 Experience
Why I’m Sharing This Story
I want to share a personal story—one that I hope might help you or someone you love navigate health and hereditary risk.
This story is also written in hopes of normalizing some fears of those facing a genetic mutation, or even answering questions you didn’t even know you had.
And truthfully, sharing this is part of how I move forward into my next chapter.
Where It All Began
In 2017, my dad was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. At age 71, genetic testing uncovered a BRCA2 mutation— a gene that increases the risk for breast, ovarian, prostate, pancreatic, and even skin cancers.
Once he learned this information, he was able to tell his siblings and children that we, too, might be at risk.
That’s where my experience began— with a genetic counselor.
I soon learned that I also carried the BRCA2 gene mutation. I remember the moment the doctor delivered the information, and the room went silent. I fought back tears to try and appear strong, but I was terrified.
I was suddenly flooded with information, appointments, and terrifying statistics about a diagnosis I had never even heard of. It was overwhelming. But as I met with my doctors, I realized something powerful: I had choices.
When Fear Became Choice
I could choose to be screened and monitored closely for the rest of my life, so that if cancer did develop, it would likely be caught early.
Or, I could choose to have preventive surgeries to eliminate some of those risks altogether.
Once I understood that I had options, and that the choice was in my hands, my fear began to shift to gratitude. Because knowledge is power, and for me, that meant control.
As a mom, the planner and organizer in me—the part that keeps everything in my household and family moving—became the part that helped me take charge of my health. And that’s when everything changed.
Instead of feeling afraid, I felt empowered.
Monitoring gave me peace of mind for the first few years, and for many, this is the best choice. But for me, the watching and waiting approach became less comforting and more stressful.
Constant screenings, appointments, and multiple biopsies made the uncertainty unbearable.
Deciding to move forward with preventive surgeries was not an easy choice. I struggled with the fear of the pain, of how it would change me, and of what it might mean for my sense of being a woman. But I also knew that constantly wondering if cancer was right around the corner was not sustainable for me.
After years of thinking it through, I had to do what was right for me, and that meant moving forward with surgery.
Finding Strength Through Surgery
Over the course of two years, I underwent six major surgeries, including a double mastectomy, oophorectomy, and melanoma removal. Each required me to pause my life, heal, recover, and then prepare for the next one.
As difficult as this was, I learned that I was stronger and more capable than I ever realized.
Today, I feel more whole than ever—and so grateful, confident, and free. I can finally live without constant fear, and I can focus on my family, my life, and my future instead of my next appointment.
And that, to me, is freedom.
I couldn’t have gone through this with such strength without my doctors, family, and friends, who stepped up and supported me in ways I didn’t even know I needed.
Sharing this story now is a continuation of the gift my dad gave me: the gift of knowledge, power, and control.
What You Can Do
- Know your family history and get tested if you’re at risk—organizations like JScreen make it easy to test right at home
- Talk to a genetic counselor if you’re unsure—Sharsheret can help
- Keep up with recommended screenings: mammograms, skin checks, and other follow-ups
Because knowing gives you peace, and acting on it gives you power.
The Gift My Dad Gave Me
Initially, my dad was told he had pancreatitis. But he persisted, asking questions and demanding answers until they found the true diagnosis.
His self-advocacy, persistence, and the quick action of his doctors led to an early cancer diagnosis. And in doing so, he didn’t just save his own life; he may have saved mine, too.
More Time, More Memories
After his recovery, my parents started a new tradition: one big family adventure every year.
We’ve hiked Colorado mountains, gone axe throwing, toured a haunted hotel, cooked countless family meals, and enjoyed many waterfront sunsets.
Last summer, we went whitewater rafting together.
Seven years after his diagnosis, there he was, soaked head to toe, paddling through the rapids surrounded by his kids and grandkids on this wild adventure.
That’s seven extra years of bonding and creating memories. Seven extra years of living, and cherishing life together.
Now, what I’ve come to realize is that my dad hadn’t just given me information; he had given me an example of courage.
He taught me that knowledge, courage, and persistence can change not just the outcome, but the entire storyline of a family.
Because of him, I got the chance to take control of my own future.
Because of him, I’m here now – grateful, strong, and healthy – ready for more adventures to come.
The Power Is in Your Hands
Since beginning to open up and share my story in different venues, I’ve heard from so many people graciously thanking me for being so open, vulnerable, and brave.
These words mean so much.
That support empowers me to keep sharing.
But I want to recognize something: if you are someone who sought out this information, who passes it on to your loved ones, or who takes the next steps—you are brave too.
Bravery and courage don’t always show up in big, bold ways. Sometimes it’s deciding to make that first appointment, take that test, or even beginning to ask questions.
Thank you for allowing me the opportunity to spread the word.
Now, the power is in your hands.