Finding My Place and My People

I’ve just returned from our Ovarian Cancer Canada retreat as a Patient Partner in Research—and I’m still trying to fully capture what this amazing experience meant to me.

Over the course of two days, a group of us gathered in person after months of connecting virtually. We came from across Canada, each bringing not just our suitcases, but our stories, our energy, and our shared experiences as people living with or affected by ovarian cancer.

This retreat marked the first time I had the chance to meet most of these incredible women in person. We’ve seen each other in countless Zoom squares and collaborated through research initiatives—but being face-to-face changed everything. There’s something profoundly powerful about being in a room with people who just get it. We laughed, we cried, we learned, we listened—and yes, we danced.

Despite our shared diagnosis, what struck me most was how beautifully unique everyone is. Our paths, personalities, and perspectives are all so different, and yet we’re united by something deeper and unspoken. It was moving, humbling, and unforgettable.

Leading up to the retreat, I was excited to attend—but also nervous. I couldn’t wait to finally give real hugs to these familiar faces. But I was also anxious: What if I didn’t quite fit in? What if my story didn’t measure up? The thought of presenting my story felt vulnerable—and emotionally nerve-wracking. As confident as I usually am, sharing my personal journey with a room full of people I deeply admire made me a little shaky.

But as time passed with this great group, those fears began to melt away. I was met with warmth, openness, and an immediate sense of belonging. I was reminded—again—that there is so much strength in shared experience, and so much power in showing up exactly as we are.

I’m incredibly grateful to be part of the Patient Partners in Research group, and even more grateful for the generous, welcoming women who’ve made space for me to grow and find my place here. This retreat reminded me that while we may come from different corners of the country and walk different paths, we are not alone.

I’m carrying this experience with me—closer to my heart than I can fully explain—and I know it’s just the beginning of something deeply meaningful in my journey. 

I’m more committed than ever to using my voice, my story, and my heart to help shape a future where no one faces ovarian cancer alone.