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Redefining Life Through Storytelling and Advocacy

FeaturedWarrior Megsie Leave a comment

Some months quietly pass. Others redefine you.

May, June, and July became one of those seasons I’ll remember for the rest of my life.

It started with ASCO Voices.

Then came co-presenting at the Association of Oncology Social Work (AOSW) conference.

Then Breastcancer.org invited me to record a live podcast episode from ASCO.

Then BlackDoctor.com featured me alongside two incredible Black women in an article highlighting people changing the future of cancer care.

And somewhere in the middle of all that…

I celebrated a milestone birthday. Not just because of the number, but because of what that number represents. Ten years ago, birthdays weren’t guaranteed. They’re gifts I somewhat welcome, even with new wrinkles on my face.

What surprised me most wasn’t the recognition.

It was the messages.

Texts.

Emails.

Phone calls.

DMs.

Gifts and cards.

People I hadn’t spoken to in years and friends from every chapter of my life.

Colleagues.

Patients.

Researchers.

Physicians.

People who simply wanted to tell me I was remembered and that I’d made a difference.

So many thoughtful messages and well wishes brought me to tears. It reminded me that we almost never understand the impact we’re making while we’re making it.

We’re too busy wondering if we’re enough.

Meanwhile, someone else has been quietly changed by something we said years ago. I’ve spent years believing my work was about cancer advocacy. Now I realize it’s always been about something much bigger.

Helping people feel seen.

Helping patients trust themselves.

Helping clinicians understand lived experience.

Helping minoritized voices know they belong in the room.

Helping audiences laugh, cry, think, and leave differently than they arrived.

That’s bigger than advocacy.

That’s storytelling.

This birthday wasn’t just another year older.

It was a reminder that surviving was never meant to be the finish line.

It was the beginning of the work I was called to do.

For years, I questioned whether I was enough. Whether my voice mattered. Whether sharing the hardest parts of my story was making any difference.

Now I know the answer.

Every stage I’ve stood on, every article I’ve written, every conversation with a patient, every room where I’ve been the only Black woman has been preparing me for what’s next.

The next chapter isn’t about chasing bigger titles or collecting more accolades, even though I still hold onto my dreams from when I was 12 years old of winning a Tony, Emmy, and an Oscar.

It’s about using every ounce of my voice, creativity, and lived experience to change how we think about healthcare, storytelling, and human connection.

Because stories don’t just inspire people.

The right story, told at the right moment, can save a life.

And after everything it took for me to still be here…

Yes, I’m older and feel every inch of it, but I’m not ready to take my final bow.

I’m just getting started.

Until next time,

Warrior Megsie

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Embracing Resilience: A Cancer Survivor’s ASCO Voices Experience

FeaturedWarrior Megsie 2 Comments

ASCO Voices, aka “Broadway Debut,” Was Never About the Stage

There’s a moment after every big dream comes true when the adrenaline wears off.

Then comes the question:

“Was it really as good as everyone said?”

For weeks after the American Society of Clinical Oncology (ASCO) Annual Meeting in Chicago, I couldn’t bring myself to watch the recording of my ASCO Voices talk.

I had spent months writing every sentence, rehearsing every pause, timing every story, and wondering if seven minutes could somehow change the way clinicians and pharma thought about Black patients and clinical trials.

When I finally pressed play…

ASCO Voices Talk – When Representation Becomes Survival: Changing My Perspective on Clinical Trials

I surprised myself.

It was actually…pretty darn good.

Not because it was perfect.

Because it was honest.

What most people didn’t see that day was everything I carried onto that stage.

I wasn’t simply a speaker.

I was a breast cancer survivor.

A patient advocate.

A professional working in cancerland.

An only child who is a caregiver for my mother, who is living with a rare blood cancer.

A Black woman navigating a country that often feels increasingly hostile to people who look like me.

A survivor who had severe pain from fibromyalgia and bad back pain was screaming.

The chemo-induced peripheral neuropathy knocking me off balance.

My post-cancer body was stiff and overweight due to surgical menopause.

None of that disappeared when I stood in the spotlight.

I just didn’t let it suffocate me.

As a Black woman in and out of cancerland, I’m often praised for being resilient.

But resilience isn’t effortless.

Sometimes resiliency looks like smiling while your pain level is a twelve.

Sometimes it looks like delivering your best performance while compartmentalizing racism, rage, and trauma.

Sometimes it looks like showing up anyway, even when emotionally exhausted.

Watching that recording reminded me that our inner critic rarely tells the whole story.

I didn’t see someone struggling.

I saw someone confident, focused, humorous, and authentic.

And maybe that’s the lesson I needed most.

Sometimes we need to become the audience to finally appreciate our own performance.

When I called ASCO Voices, my “Broadway debut”, people laughed.

I wasn’t joking.

Theatre was my first love.

Long before cancer.

Long before advocacy.

Long before hashtags.

Standing on that stage felt like every version of Megan-Claire finally meeting in one place.

The little girl who dreamed of winning a Tony and an Oscar.

The woman who survived breast cancer but still had dreams.

The advocate who battles impostor syndrome but continues to speak up anyway.

For seven unforgettable minutes…..

I was doing what I love most.

I was just me speaking my truth.

And it was enough.

Until next time,

Warrior Megsie