By Jermaine N. Edwards

October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month, a time when the world turns pink and greater attention is given to a disease that continues to change lives and families. The World Health Organization has chosen the 2026 theme,

“Every story is unique, every journey matters.”

This year, those words are especially personal to me. I am no longer looking at Breast Cancer Awareness Month from the outside. I am now one of those stories.

I was diagnosed with breast cancer in September 2025, and on October 16, 2025, I underwent a double mastectomy. This October 16 marks one year since that surgery. The cancer was removed from my body, and for that I remain deeply grateful to God, but my treatment did not end there. Radiation followed, and one year later I am still undergoing treatment. That is something I believe is important to say because there can be an assumption that once the cancer is removed, everything is over. For many of us, it is not. Treatment can continue long after surgery, and so can the physical and emotional effects of what the body has been through.

No two experiences with breast cancer are exactly alike. Some people require surgery, some chemotherapy, some radiation, some hormone therapy, and others a combination of treatments. Some recover quickly while others face complications, side effects and treatment that continues for years. Some scars can be seen and others cannot. We also have different levels of support around us. This is why we should never look at someone who appears well, who is smiling, working or carrying on with everyday life, and assume that everything has returned to normal.

Breast cancer has changed me. It has changed my relationship with my body, my sense of security and the way I look at life. There have been moments of fear, exhaustion and uncertainty, but there have also been moments of tremendous gratitude. I have had to learn that being strong does not mean pretending that everything is fine. Sometimes strength is saying that you are tired. Sometimes it is resting without feeling guilty. Sometimes it is accepting help. There are days when strength simply means getting through that day, and I have learned to be at peace with that.

This experience has also made me even more aware of the importance of knowing our bodies and paying attention when something changes. A lump is not the only possible sign of breast cancer. Changes in the breast or nipple, unusual thickening, skin changes or abnormal discharge should never be ignored. If something looks different, feels different or simply does not seem right, have it checked. Fear can make us postpone things we do not want to face, but knowing what is happening gives us the opportunity to act.

We must also remember that breast cancer is not exclusive to women. Men can develop breast cancer too, and they must be part of this conversation. Families and communities are part of it as well. A cancer diagnosis does not stop with the person who receives it. It enters the home. It affects the people who love you, the people who worry about you and the people who walk beside you through appointments, treatment, recovery and the difficult days in between.

The pink ribbon has its place. It brings visibility and starts conversations, but it is only part of the story. Behind it are real people dealing with surgeries, appointments, medication, side effects, scars, fear and uncertainty, while still trying to live their everyday lives. That is why awareness must mean more than wearing pink during October. It should mean educating ourselves, paying attention to our bodies, encouraging early detection, supporting access to timely and quality care, and continuing to stand with people long after the initial diagnosis.

As I approach the first anniversary of my double mastectomy, I am grateful. Grateful that the cancer was removed. Grateful for the people who have stood beside me. Most of all, grateful to God for carrying me through days when I had strength and through days when I had very little of it. I am still undergoing treatment, so I cannot write this as someone looking back at a chapter that has completely closed. I am writing from inside the experience, still walking through it, still learning from it and still trusting God as I move forward.

So this October, when we see the pink ribbons, wear the pink shirts and participate in the walks and activities, let us remember what all of it represents. Check your body. Pay attention to changes. Encourage someone you love to do the same. Support those who are undergoing treatment. Remember those we have lost. Stand beside those who are still fighting. And never assume that because someone looks strong, they do not need support.

“Every story is unique, every journey matters.”

Mine is still being written.

Jermaine N. Edwards

This article was originally published by Antigua News Room. Read the original article here: The Ribbon Is Only Part of the Story.