“I Survived the Treatments… So Why Do I Feel More Lost Than Ever?”

Last week, I made a post on Instagram after reading a comment from someone who had finished conventional cancer treatments. She shared that she kept hearing other survivors say things like, “I’m so grateful for my diagnosis—it was one of the best things that ever happened to me.” She, however, was not in a good place mentally or emotionally and couldn’t imagine ever feeling—or saying—the same.

And I totally related. I remember hearing similar things from people while I was going through my own conventional treatments. I would just look at them and think, “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

If you’ve felt the same—if you’re at a crossroads on your journey back to health—then this one’s for you.

I survived cancer treatments. I ticked every box on the medical checklist. I endured the surgeries, sat through the chemo sessions, and somehow made it to the other side. And yet… I felt more lost than ever.

This isn’t just my story. It’s the story I’ve seen repeated over and over in the women I’ve worked with—women who have walked the path of conventional cancer treatments (and also those who've been on a holistic healing journey).

No one warns you that recovering from the treatments can feel lonelier than the treatments themselves.

The Paradox of Support

During treatment, your life is full. Every day is structured with appointments, blood draws, scans, and check-ins. Your loved ones show up when you need them most. They drop off meals. They sit with you on the couch while you binge-watch shows. They cheer you on through every painful moment. You feel seen. You feel loved. You feel supported.

And then treatment ends.

As your hair grows back, the weekly visits taper off. The support you leaned on so heavily begins to recede. You've spent months watching life go on around you while your world has been on pause. You counted down the days for this nightmare to end—and now that it has, stepping back into the world feels… foreign. Unfamiliar. Daunting. Hard.

Your body hasn’t caught up with life. Your mind hasn’t either. And your nervous system? No matter what you do, it feels permanently on high alert.

When Losing Your Health Feels Like Losing Yourself

You feel lost, and it’s not just because of the treatments. Somewhere along the way, you didn’t just lose your health.

• You may have lost your hair or parts of your anatomy

• You may have lost your menstrual cycle or your fertility altogether.

• You might feel like you lost your femininity—or all the things that make you a woman.

• You may have lost a sense of identity, a version of yourself you thought would always exist.

The version of yourself that existed before this nightmare? She’s gone. And as you begin to untangle who it is you’re becoming, there’s a real, raw sense of grief. You’re in between—not the person you were, and not yet sure of the person you’re becoming. In reality, you probably don't recognise who you are anymore.

The Hidden Power in the In-Between

Here’s the paradox: this season you’re in—though disorienting, lonely, and raw—if you surrender to it, can also be quietly powerful. It can even feel exciting, because from the moment you were diagnosed, you’ve likely been questioning everything about your life:

• Your priorities

• Your values

• Your relationships

• Your work

• Your social life

• Your life itself

And honestly? In my opinion, that’s not an accident. It’s exactly what a life-altering experience is meant to do—a divine tap on the shoulder, letting you know something about the way you’ve been living and operating needs urgent attention.

So, even though it feels uncomfortable, lonely, and uncertain, this is a season of re-evaluation, realignment, and awakening.

Your Nervous System is Still Healing

Right now, it probably feels like you’re a stranger in your own body. Your energy is unpredictable. Your emotions feel louder than ever. Every time you catch your reflection, it startles you—you barely recognise the woman staring back.

There’s no roadmap for this part of the journey. No ceremony, and no finish line. It’s just you and your healing body, while life continues to move on around you. And your world? It feels like it’s simultaneously moving forward and falling apart.

But here’s the truth I’ve witnessed in my own healing, and in the countless women I’ve coached over the years: putting yourself back together after treatment isn’t just about recovery.

It’s a homecoming.

It’s a remembering of your true essence—the part of you that is wise, deep, and fully aligned with her body, her heart, and her mind.

What Happens When You Surrender to the Journey

Surrender doesn’t mean giving up. It means allowing yourself to sit in the in-between. It means letting yourself grieve the version of you that’s gone. It means listening to your body when it’s exhausted, your mind when it’s anxious, and your heart when it’s heavy.

When you do this, something extraordinary happens:

• You begin to notice small moments of clarity and calm.

• You start to reconnect with what truly matters to you.

• You allow space for your nervous system to gradually settle.

• You slowly discover the version of yourself that wants to emerge—wiser, deeper, and more aligned than ever before.

The Invitation: Returning to Your Truest Self

Here’s my invitation to you: let this be your slow return to your truest self. Not the version from before cancer—but the version who is wiser, deeper, and finally listening to her own body.

This is a gentle, sacred process. It’s not linear. Some days will feel like progress, others like three steps backward. That’s normal. It’s part of the journey.

Your healing isn’t about “getting back to normal.” Normal doesn’t exist anymore—not in the way it did before. This is about becoming the woman you were always meant to be—the one who knows her body and who she is, trusts her intuition, and prioritises her own well-being.

You Are Not Broken

If this is where you are right now, hear this clearly:

Although it may not feel like it, you're not broken, and you're not behind. Like me, you've had different life-experiences which if you allow it, over time, will add a richness to your life in unexpected ways.

You are in the middle of becoming who you really are.

And that’s beautiful.

Gentle Next Steps

• Move slowly. Your body, mind, and nervous system need time to recalibrate.

• Reconnect with yourself. Even five minutes a day of quiet reflection, gentle movement, or journaling can help.

• Seek gentle guidance. Whether through coaching, online courses, or community support, you don’t need to do this alone.

• Honor the in-between. This is the space where your truest self is emerging.

You may not recognise her yet—but she’s already there. Waiting. Stronger. Wiser.

And one day, when you look back on this time, you’ll realise: the loss, the grief, and the uncertainty weren’t signs of weakness—they were the seeds of your transformation.

You are not lost. You are becoming.