When I first heard the words “you have breast cancer,” my world flipped upside down. I’ve spent my life helping people walk through fear, teaching them how to sit with uncertainty, how to regulate emotion, how to move forward when life doesn’t go according to plan. But there’s a quiet, humbling truth no one prepares you for, when you’re the one facing the fear, you learn that knowing the tools and needing them are worlds apart.
As a therapist and founder of Spire Therapy, I’ve always believed that resilience isn’t about being unshaken; rather, it’s about learning how to steady yourself while the world around you shifts. The truth is that life lives in the moment that you learn to steady yourself within the storm. And suddenly, on October 1, 2025, my world changed, and I was the one learning how to do that in real time.
This is a story about two parallel paths: my personal journey through breast cancer and the lens I carry as a mental health professional navigating it. Because when life breaks open, it doesn’t just ask how strong you are, it asks you how honest you can be with your toughest critic of all…yourself.
Breast cancer is the most common cancer among women worldwide, making up roughly one in four female cancer cases. I never imagined I’d be part of that statistic. I was in my early 40s, exercised regularly, and ate well. Then after a routine mammogram, I noticed persistent pain in my breast. For months, I was told, “cancer usually doesn’t hurt” and “the tests are all normal” But I knew something wasn’t right, so I kept going back.
As a therapist, I constantly encourage my clients to advocate for themselves. I had to do the same. After nearly a full year of conversations with my doctors, I finally had an MRI, and that’s when they saw it. Stage 2 breast cancer. I remember my cellphone ringing just as one client left my office and just before I was about to let another person in. I saw the number and took a deep breath and answered. Her words were kind and steady, but they cut like a knife. She started with, “this is not the phone call I wanted to make” she said. I understood right then. I exhaled hard – in that moment I realized I hadn’t been breathing since I answered the call. I looked down at the floor and then up and asked what we do next because I need to live. I asked questions. I stayed composed. I needed to live and so I did what I do best, I listened, but this time for myself. I hung up, composed myself, reminded myself of the skill I offer to my clients called compartmentalization…I put the news of my diagnosis in a compartment in my mind, set it aside and told myself I will revisit this at 5pm when I leave here, refocused on my next client I was about to let in, breathed again and opened the door with a smile. Afterall, I was genuinely happy to see them.
In some ways, I had been preparing for this moment my entire life. I was a former litigator in New York City and left the field to give back to humanity in a bigger way. My mental health training helped. I knew the importance of sitting with difficult emotions rather than pushing them away. I knew how to recognize when anxiety was taking over and how to bring myself back. What helped me most wasn’t anything complicated, it was consistency and balance in very simple things. I started writing and making videos more often, not to be profound, but to be honest. Some days it was a few sentences or a 3-minute video. Some days the videos were short, and they just detailed how hard the day was. But it gave my thoughts somewhere to land instead of spinning endlessly in my head. I also continued to develop my other programs at Spire – specifically, Thrive After 3. I leaned into my love for rubiks cubes…I can now solve the 2x2, the 3x3, the 4x4, the 5x5, the 6x6 and the 7x7!
I also leaned heavily into the grounding techniques that I’ve taught for years, especially a simple breath pattern: in for four, hold for four, out for six. When anxiety surged, that was my anchor. Not to eliminate fear, but to keep me from being consumed by it. And I did something else I often encourage but don’t always see people follow through on, I made sure I had my own support. Spaces where I didn’t have to be the strong one. Spaces where I could just be human and the vulnerable one in the room. I think one of the reasons I love my job so much is because I love both sides of it – being the therapist and the client. Both seats feel so humbling and empowering at the same time . Every day I am learning how insight doesn’t immunize you from pain, rather it gives you a way through it.
One of the hardest parts of this journey was telling my family. My husband, my kids, my parents and my sisters, and telling my team at Spire, letting them all know that while I was sick I was getting the best care possible, that they weren’t responsible for fixing anything, and that it was okay to feel whatever they were feeling. There was a moment not long after, when one of my boys looked at me and said, “Are you going to lose your hair?” And I paused, because that question wasn’t really about hair. It was about change. About fear. About “Is my mom still going to be my mom?” I told him the truth. And then I told him something even more important: “No matter what changes, I’m still me.” In that moment, I realized, kids don’t need perfection, they need presence, honesty, and that hard things can be and should be faced head on and not avoided.
Being a mom through cancer has taught me more about vulnerability and honesty than I ever expected. I’ve always emphasized open conversations about feelings in my work. Now I was living it in real time, and my kids were showing me how to do it.
“Dear Denise” Column Launch
Life doesn’t wait until we feel ready. It shows up messy, unexpected, and often at the worst possible time. This experience has made one thing incredibly clear to me: people don’t just need answers, they need a place to ask the questions they’re sometimes afraid to say aloud. That’s why I’m launching Dear Denise for Ridgefield Lifestyle. This column is a space for real questions about real life: parenting, anxiety, relationships, identity, overwhelm, grief, and everything in between. It’s where clinical insight meets lived experience, and where advice is grounded in both science and humanity.
You can submit your questions on Instagram at @RidgefieldLifestyleMagazine or by emailing katie.parry@citylifestyle.com.
Cancer has a way of stripping life down to what actually matters. It’s taught me that strength isn’t pushing through at all costs, it’s knowing when to rest, that self-care isn’t indulgent, it’s essential, and importantly that asking for help isn’t weakness, it’s wisdom. I’ll be finishing up treatment soon. And honestly? I’m just looking forward to summer. To being outside. To playing wiffle ball with my boys. To the ordinary moments that don’t feel ordinary anymore. They feel amazing, because I was given the chance to have more of them.
Whatever you’re carrying right now, whether it’s loud and obvious or quiet and hidden, I hope Dear Denise becomes a place you can come back to for the guidance that points to the wisdom that we are all looking for with real answers and the reminder that you don’t have to do any of this alone.