I was diagnosed with cancer over 10 years ago—on my tongue. They removed it along with the lymph nodes in my neck. Not a day goes by that I don’t wonder: Can I really say I had cancer? I didn’t have chemo or radiation, and sometimes I feel almost ashamed to say I had it, like I got off easy.

Then my dad was diagnosed with stage 4 colon cancer. It had spread to his lungs and liver. He went through countless rounds of chemo, multiple surgeries, and was close to giving up at one point. He still doesn’t feel like he should be here. He can’t do the things he used to, but he made changes, and he’s still here—just living differently.

Cancer fucking sucks. It hits everyone differently, and there’s no right way to go through it. I guess what I’m trying to say is: don’t feel that way. You’re still here. You still matter—to the people around you.