Early last year, I didn’t feel quite right. I went to the doctor, but didn’t even have to wait until the end of my ultrasound to know it was serious. The look on the sonographer’s face was the giveaway. I had a very large tumour in my abdomen and it was cancer. It was obviously quite scary for myself and my family.
The hardest part was the uncertainty. Doctors couldn’t tell where the tumour was attached or what they would find once they operated, meaning the outcome could have ranged from major organ removal to chemotherapy or radiotherapy.
In February 2025, I underwent surgery and received confirmation I had liposarcoma – a rare, malignant cancer that develops in fat cells, which primarily affects adults between 50 and 65. At the time, I was 47.
But in good news it was out of my body and all I needed was an MRI every six months for the next two years.
Everyone around me was saying how happy I must be to simply get back to normal life. Logically it made sense but emotionally, it wasn’t that simple.
I had just gone through an emotional roller coaster and now I’m back to work, back to making lunch boxes, and I’m really struggling with perspective.
My husband Greg sensed I was seeking something more, something to focus my energy on. For my birthday, he gave me something I never expected – a GirlsTrek adventure to Peru.
Peru sounded like a great adventure, but after major abdominal surgery my first reaction wasn’t excitement. It was absolute terror. I wasn’t sure if my abdominal muscles even worked let alone if they could handle eight days hiking at altitude.
But with the encouragement of my friend and GirlsTrek lead guide Lisa, I started at the very beginning, rebuilding my core with specialist physiotherapy. Then another setback arrived when I needed a hernia operation as a result of my first surgery, delaying my training again.
I remember calling Lisa and saying, ‘I’m just absolutely devastated.’ She told me not to make any decisions straight away. As I gradually recovered, Lisa said ‘I really think for you this will be something that will show you how strong your body is’.
She was right, but it became more than that. What began as a challenge to recover from cancer surgery unexpectedly became a journey of self-discovery.
Having never hiked or camped before, I trained for months to prepare physically, believing the mountain would be my greatest challenge.
Instead, I discovered that the real transformation wasn’t reaching the summit – it was stripping away the many roles I carry every day as a mother, wife, professional and colleague.
In the simplicity of hiking, I found something that modern life rarely allows: the space to reconnect with who I am beneath those roles.
I came to realise that peace isn’t the absence of difficulty, but the absence of conflict between who we are inside and the life we’re living outside.
Like so many women, I’d spent years putting everyone else first. I have a 14-year-old daughter who competes at Queensland state level in swimming, so our days often begin before 4.30am.
It really is that cliché saying that you have to put your oxygen mask on first. Everyone has so many reasons why you can’t… but with the year I’ve had, I realised I had to put myself first if I was going to fully recover, get fit and get myself to Peru.
Certainly that has made me a better mum, wife and friend.
I’m incredibly proud of what I’ve achieved.
You have to do things that scare you. If you’d told me two years ago that I’d be fit enough and mentally ready to trek Peru, I wouldn’t have believed you. Thankfully I was in good hands with GirlsTrek preparing us to have all the right gear to deal with high altitudes and -10 degree temperatures.
Since returning home, I’ve reflected deeply on why this experience was so transformative, not just for someone recovering from cancer, but for anyone navigating life’s transitions.
My story isn’t ultimately about surviving cancer or climbing a mountain, it’s about remembering who we are when life becomes quiet enough for us to hear ourselves again.