It’s been four years since I was diagnosed with breast cancer on March 11, 2021.

This is the first year I didn’t write or post something on my diagnosis day, but it’s not like I forgot about it. It’s not something I could forget even if I wanted to.

On March 11, my husband and I traveled to San Francisco. I was heading in for my work offsite, and he traveled with me to work remotely so we could have a little vacation time together over the weekend.

After we settled in at our hotel, we grabbed delicious bowls of ramen, then went for a leisurely walk from the Ferry Building down to Pier 39. We bounced around a few shops at the Pier, visited the sea lions, grabbed coffee, and headed back to the hotel for the evening. It was a beautiful day filled with sunshine, laughter, and the salty wind blowing through my hair.

My hair.

My hair that I lost almost fully while undergoing 13 grueling months of treatment for my unbelievable breast cancer diagnosis. My hair that I cried about losing probably even harder than initially hearing I was diagnosed with cancer. My hair that I now have again, my life that I now have again. A life so beautiful and full of experiences that I can only be grateful to God, modern medicine, and the love of my husband, family, and friends that supported me throughout my cancer journey.

So no, I didn’t forget about my diagnosis day – I was just out and about, busy living life. A life that I wasn’t sure I’d be able to live again a mere 4 years ago. So much of my life has changed since that fateful diagnosis day, and I couldn’t be more grateful for every tired morning, late night, sunburn, raindrop, and big breeze tangling my long, wavy hair.