Unpacking YSC

I attended the Young Survivors Coalition Summit this past weekend in Atlanta. It was my first conference/summit as survivor and as a vendor. I was also super fortunate in that my husband attended with me as a co-survivor. 

I have attended the BoobieQueen Co. Retreat in the past, but this was my first event with hundreds of women (and a rockstar man) who know this life. 

It was overwhelming to put it in the simplest terms. Firstly, as a vendor, every time I left my exhibit booth I passed the memorial wall. It was so rough to face the continually growing list of names, photos, and personalized comments. Mortality becomes unavoidable when you’re diagnosed with cancer. It was as if I couldn’t even process the grief.

Boobie Queens at YSC Summit 2025

In all honesty, I couldn’t look at the wall--it was just too hard. 

Next, there was the pajama party with the lingerie fashion show. Everyone told me it would be so empowering to see. And it was. It was amazing to see survivors and thrivers celebrating their bodies. But when those who are 13, 15, and even 18-years out from their cancer were announced, I cried. It’s crazy for me that since my diagnosis, I’ve never thought about being here even five years from now, let alone 18. My survivorship comes with the inadvertent belief that I am destined to die young. I have no evidence of disease, but in my mind, it’s only a matter of time until my cancer comes back. I never realized that until I saw those over a decade out from the disease celebrating their life.

However, don’t let my tears twist things. YSC Summit 2025 was something I will not soon forget. Being surrounded by others who have walked my same path was a relief. There is no such thing as a stranger when you’re surrounded by others with/who’ve had breast cancer. Nowhere else in the world can you walk up to a random person and discuss Nuelasta bone pain and its best remedies. Plus, no one gives you a second glance for what society thinks of as “non-normal” hair. 

And bless my poor hubby! Thankfully, he isn’t shy or easily shook, because there were conversions about nipples, sex toys, and bras galore. You can tell a man has been down the breast cancer trail when there are countless badass flatties going topless and the man doesn’t bat an eye. Even better, my man left the summit grateful to have been. He has also made new friends, and somehow left a break-out session with an idea for a nonprofit for co-survivors. 

The Hubby and I celebrating the new New Year!

I set up as a vendor, Surviving with Snark, with a plethora of snarky shirts, stickers, etc. And, I found my people. The ones who are outspoken. The ones who have the confidence and fearlessness that I now aspire to emulate. The ones who saw my unique brand of snarky sarcasm and couldn’t help but laugh.

YSC Summit 2025 will not be my last. It’s my new home.