Man Up to Cancer
I never set out to become a cancer advocate.
When I was diagnosed with stage lllb colorectal cancer in 2018, my focus was simple: survive. Like many people facing a life-threatening illness, I was overwhelmed by appointments, treatments, uncertainty, and fear. Advocacy wasn’t part of the plan. In fact, I wasn’t even sure I had a voice worth sharing.
At the time, I was carrying more than just a cancer diagnosis. I was also carrying the weight of a difficult childhood marked by abuse and trauma. For years, I had learned to push through pain quietly, to keep moving forward, and to tell people I was “fine” even when I wasn’t. Cancer changed that. It forced me to confront my vulnerabilities and ask for help in ways I never had before.
As I navigated treatment, I quickly realized how isolating cancer could be, especially for men. Many of us had been taught to handle problems on our own, to avoid talking about fear, grief, or uncertainty. Yet beneath the surface, countless men were struggling with the same questions and emotions I was experiencing.
Everything began to change when I discovered the community at Man Up to Cancer. For the first time, I found a group of men willing to have honest conversations about what it meant to live with cancer. There was no pretending. No need to put on a brave face. Just authentic connection, understanding, and support. Through the leadership of the organization’s founder, Trevor Maxwell, and the growing Man Up to Cancer community, I found something I didn’t know I needed: a voice.
What started as participation soon evolved into purpose. I began sharing my story, first to connect with others and later to help them feel less alone. I found myself speaking with newly diagnosed patients, caregivers, survivors, and families searching for hope and practical guidance. The more I listened, the more I realized that advocacy wasn’t about having all the answers. It was about showing up, sharing honestly, and creating space for others to do the same.
Over time, advocacy became an extension of my survivorship. It allowed me to transform some of the hardest moments of my life into opportunities to help others. Whether speaking at events, supporting fellow patients, helping build programs for men affected by cancer, or simply listening to someone’s story, I discovered that advocacy is often rooted in service.
Looking back, I can see that advocacy didn’t arrive all at once. It found me through conversations, relationships, and a growing desire to make the cancer journey a little easier for someone else. What began as a fight for my own life became a commitment to improving the lives of others facing similar challenges.
Cancer changed my life in countless ways. It took away certainty, but it gave me purpose. It introduced me to a community that became family. Most importantly, it taught me that our stories have power.
I never planned to become an advocate. But advocacy found me when I needed it most—and in helping others find their voice, I found my own. Today I serve as the director of programs and partnerships for the very organization that helped me find my own voice as a survivor.
If you know a man needing emotional support in the fight with cancer, encourage him join us at manuptocancer.org.
