Since the age of two, I’ve been compared to superheroes such as Wonder Woman and Batman. It’s not because I have some super ability, such as speed or strength. Instead, I was praised for something I saw far less grand: surviving.
At 21 months old, I developed dilated cardiomyopathy, a condition in which the heart becomes enlarged and cannot pump efficiently. After months in the hospital, I walked out with a transplanted heart, one that would help me grow, but also bound me to an identity that I didn’t choose.
After my heart transplant, I had a relatively normal childhood until age 11, when I was diagnosed with Diffuse Large B-cell Lymphoma. Alongside fear for my health, I dreaded the attention a second life-threatening illness would bring. Guilt weighed on me as my family once again had to put everything in their lives on pause. My scars no longer felt like symbols of strength, but reminders that I would never see myself as a hero until I could make a difference for others.
After being declared cancer-free, I began making conscious decisions about how to leave my mark. I joined my hospital’s Teen Advisory Board to improve life for young patients. We successfully organized a prom for patients too sick to attend their own. That night, beneath the glowing disco ball, I finally felt worthy of recognition-not for surviving, but for helping others feel understood. I transitioned from patient to advocate. No longer trapped by fear of expectations or labels, I turned my experience into action.
Through my illnesses, I received multiple life-saving blood transfusions. Because I cannot personally donate blood due to my medical history, I joined my school’s American Red Cross club and organized seven blood drives to give back to the same system that provided for me. I was now impacting others beyond my hospital and school.
Motivated to do even more, I led a student-driven campaign through the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society to raise awareness and funds for cancer research. My team planned events and secured sponsorships, bringing together a community of people who may have never connected otherwise. In just seven weeks, we raised over $78,000.
Through listening to young patients’ needs, organizing blood drives, and raising funds and awareness for cancer research, I’ve evolved from someone who used to rely on the support of others to someone who wants to provide it. I once tested the labels placed on me, but I’ve learned they can be used to create change. I’ve developed a passion for advocacy and plan to pursue a career in healthcare policy, where I can fight for accessible and equitable care, improve insurance systems, and protect patient rights. I know now that while cancer has given me scars, it has also given me purpose. Surviving cancer did not make me a hero, but I hope the choices I’ve made given my second chance in life can help save others.