I have previously shared my journey of facing breast cancer and making peace with the changed reflection in the mirror. Today, I’d like to talk about what came after — stories of “passing on strength” since I became a volunteer with Amy’s Women Empowerment.

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In the spring of 2022, after my diagnosis, I was trapped in fear and self- doubt. I was afraid to face the surgical scars and, at times, felt a deep dislike for myself. Fortunately, Amy and the community at the organization walked alongside me, helping me gradually find my way. They helped me understand: one part of my body could never define my worth as a woman. That warmth became the firmest support on my path to recovery.

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Therefore, as my health gradually improved, I signed up to volunteer at the first opportunity. I understood all too well how much someone newly diagnosed or recovering from surgery needs a ray of light — that shame of feeling “incomplete,” the uncertainty about the future, the fear of facing it alone. I had been through it myself. I wanted to pass on the warmth I had received to each person still struggling.

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My volunteer work isn’t complex in form. At its heart, it’s “using my experience to understand your pain.” During the organization’s recovery- sharing sessions, I openly share my own process from self-disgust to self- acceptance: how I once smashed a mirror, and how I slowly learned to draw back the curtains and face myself. I tell them, “External labels may fade, but your intrinsic value remains forever.” I don’t have professional psychological knowledge; I strive to be “a listener who truly understands.”

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Recently, a young woman who had just undergone surgery joined our group. Like I once was, she couldn’t bear to look at her scars and shut herself in her room every day. I didn’t rush to advise her to “be strong.” I sat beside her and softly spoke of my own days hiding behind the curtains after surgery, of the trembling when I first touched my scars. I told her it’s completely normal to dislike your present self — there’s no need to force immediate acceptance. It is all right to take your time.

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Afterwards, I would often invite her to join the arts and crafts activities, chatting with her about everyday life unrelated to illness and gently guiding her to see that, beyond the physical changes, she still had so much about herself worth affirming. Last month, she messaged me, saying she finally dared to look at herself earnestly in the mirror and had even put a pretty tattoo sticker over her scar.

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I used to think the greatest victory was making peace with myself and living well again. Now I understand that passing on the strength distilled from my own pain — helping others avoid some detours — this sense of value has made my life feel richer and more profound.

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Breast cancer left me with deep scars, but it also allowed me to see the essence of life more clearly. Now, I no longer cling to my past identity as “Marketing Director.” Instead, I find greater fulfillment in the role of “Volunteer Xiaoya” — using sincere companionship to help more people unlock their psychological burdens. Here, I wish that everyone on this journey meet a companion who truly understands her. And may we all learn to carry our own scars and live to become light for others.