CHOOSINGHOPEDAILY

Hope isn’t a feeling. It’s a practice.

People often tell me, “You’re so hopeful.”

The truth is, I don’t always feel hopeful.

I’ve sat in waiting rooms wondering if cancer had returned. I’ve celebrated clear scans and braced myself for uncertain ones. I’ve grieved friends I’ve met through advocacy while trying to encourage someone newly diagnosed. I’ve laughed until I cried and cried until I laughed—sometimes in the very same day.

Hope isn’t something that simply appears because life is going well.

For me, hope is a choice.

Not once.
Every day.

That’s what #ChoosingHopeDaily means.

It isn’t pretending everything is okay.

It isn’t toxic positivity.

It isn’t denying fear, grief, anger, or uncertainty.

It’s deciding that those things don’t get the final word.

Hope is believing there is still purpose in today, even when tomorrow is unknown.

Hope is showing up for someone else when your own heart feels heavy.

Hope is finding beauty in a beautifully messy life.

Hope is practicing courage before confidence arrives.

Why Hope?

Because I’ve learned that hope changes us.

It doesn’t always change our diagnosis.

It doesn’t always change our circumstances.

But it changes how we move through them.

Hope gave me the courage to ask questions.

To advocate for myself.

To tell my story.

To fight for better care for the people who come after me.

Hope turned a cancer diagnosis into a calling.

Why “Choosing Hope Daily”?

Because hope isn’t a one-time decision.

Some days it’s easy.

Other days, choosing hope looks surprisingly ordinary.

Getting out of bed.

Going for a walk.

Calling a friend.

Keeping the appointment you’ve been dreading.

Laughing at something ridiculous.

Writing the email.

Advocating for one more patient.

Beginning again after a hard day.

Every one of those moments is a choice.

Every one is an act of hope.

How Do We Practice Hope?

I don’t think hope is something we’re born with.

I think it’s something we strengthen—like a muscle.

We practice hope when we…

  • Tell our stories honestly.
  • Ask for help when we need it.
  • Offer kindness without expecting anything in return.
  • Stay curious instead of assuming the worst.
  • Celebrate small victories.
  • Allow ourselves to grieve without giving up.
  • Choose gratitude alongside reality.
  • Become the person we once needed ourselves.

Little by little, those choices reshape us.

My Invitation

Whether you’ve found your way here because of cancer, leadership, grief, advocacy, or simply because life feels messy right now, I’m glad you’re here.

My hope isn’t that you’ll leave believing life is easy.

It’s that you’ll leave believing you’re stronger than you know.

That your story matters.

That your voice matters.

That hope is available even on the days it feels hardest to find.

So tomorrow morning, when life asks you the same question it asks all of us—

“What will you choose today?”

I hope you’ll choose hope.

Again.

And then the next day.

And the day after that.

Because hope isn’t just a feeling.

It’s a practice.