“The Butterfly Beneath The Scar” by Sofia DiVagno, 18

I never imagined that a single word, “cancer,” could change the course of my entire life. My junior year of high school was supposed to be spent preparing for the SAT, going on college tours, and enjoying late nights with friends. Instead, it became a year of doctor visits, surgery, and radiation. It all began with a small lump I noticed on my neck while getting ready one morning. I had no other symptoms except this marble-sized swelling on the side of my neck. My mom urged me to get it checked out, and after several tests, a biopsy, ultrasounds, and bloodwork, I was diagnosed with metastatic thyroid cancer. Getting diagnosed with metastatic thyroid cancer at just 16 wasn’t simply a medical issue; it was an emotional storm I hadn’t seen coming. I lost control over my body, my schedule, and how others saw me. While navigating this new path of fighting my disease was challenging, it also helped shape who I am today. I’ve grown into someone who values support and recognizes the strength that comes from helping others.

Everything happened so quickly. One day, I was sitting in class worrying about a biology quiz, and the next, I was told I needed surgery. At first, I didn’t fully understand what metastatic thyroid cancer was. I only knew that everything changed the moment I received that diagnosis. The surgery was scheduled almost immediately, followed by radioactive iodine treatment. My calendar filled with lab work and recovery, and the normal high school routine I’d been focused on, like high school tests and my cheerleading practice, suddenly felt out of reach. I didn’t want to be known as “the girl with cancer.” I didn’t want others to look at me with pity or ask questions I didn’t know how to answer. So I wore turtlenecks to hide the scar on my neck and kept my struggles to myself. I smiled through classes, even when I was exhausted. Internally, I was scared and felt far from strong. I felt isolated and overwhelmed.

My friends and family kept telling me, “You got this!” or “You can beat it!” but those words didn’t erase the fear. I didn’t feel brave, as if my life was out of my control. I kept trying to act like nothing had changed, but it had. That started to shift when my best friend asked to accompany me to one of my medical appointments. I was embarrassed at first and didn’t want anyone to see me at my most vulnerable. She insisted on coming, and while in the waiting room, she cracked jokes, making us laugh out loud together. That moment made me realize that her presence reminded me that I didn’t have to face cancer alone. It was a small moment, but it gave me the push I needed to start asking for help I’d been avoiding.

Balancing high school, friendships, and treatment was one of the hardest parts of my journey. I wanted to keep up with school, but my energy was unpredictable. When I shared my situation with my teachers, they responded with kindness and flexibility, helping me stay on track. At home, my mom managed my medication and treatment schedule and saw that I needed emotional support. She found a therapist for me, and although I was unsure at first, Ms. Jessica quickly became an important part of my recovery. She gave me a safe space to express emotions I had kept inside and reminded me that strength didn’t mean hiding how I felt. She never rushed to fix anything. She just listened when I needed her to. I took her advice and started journaling and taking short walks in the sun, which helped ease the daily pressure. Most importantly, she helped me accept my condition and see that I could grow through it.

Throughout my journey, my support system played a critical role. My mom was always there, managing my care and noticing when I needed more than just physical healing. My teachers showed compassion that helped me stay academically grounded. My best friend reminded me that I didn’t have to hide or face things alone. And Ms. Jessica offered emotional guidance that helped me regain balance. Later, I found support through peers in online groups who truly understood what I was going through. I joined an online support group for teens with thyroid cancer. Connecting with others who understood helped me to feel less alone and more like myself again. This strong support network helped me get through my most difficult times and inspired me to give back.

When I started feeling emotionally stronger, I realized I wanted to give back. That feeling began during one of my follow-up appointments at Lurie Children’s Hospital, where I spent time in the Ronald McDonald Family Room on my medical treatment floor, a peaceful, welcoming space where families could rest, grab a snack, or talk to others going through similar challenges. We shared stories, and some parents mentioned they had to rush to the hospital without packing a bag, and I remembered how unprepared my mom and I had felt that first night. That memory stayed with me. I knew I couldn’t eliminate everyone’s fear, but maybe I could help make those moments a little easier. That’s how I came up with the idea for Cares4Kids, a charity club I started at my high school. I wanted to create care packages for children and families staying at the Ronald McDonald House. With the help of my friends and classmates, we collected fuzzy socks, travel-sized toiletries, snacks, small toys, and handwritten notes. We assembled baskets that we donated to families during long hospital stays. We also used our Instagram page, @LaneCares4Kids, to organize fundraisers and raise awareness about what families experience when their children undergo cancer treatment. What surprised me most was how much my charity club helped me personally. Creating Cares4Kids helped me feel like I had something meaningful to give, even while I was still recovering. It reminded me that I could connect to my community and make a real difference in the lives of other children facing similar medical circumstances. This fall, when I start college at Indiana University Bloomington, I plan to continue growing my club. I want to involve other students and partner with similar campus organizations. It started as a small high school club and has become a significant part of how I want to live, by giving back and creating hope.

The hardest part of fighting cancer wasn’t the surgery or radiation. It was the emotional rollercoaster that made me feel alone, scared, and uncertain about who I was becoming. Thanks to the love and support of my family, friends, therapist, and community, I learned I didn’t have to act strong to show strength. Therapy helped me find my balance, and Cares4Kids helped me find my purpose. Together, they showed me that healing wasn’t just about returning to who I was but about growing into who I’m meant to become.

This fall, I’ll attend Indiana University Bloomington to earn a bachelor’s degree in social work, followed by a master’s in counseling. I want to become a licensed therapist working with children and teens facing medical illnesses. I want to be the mentor who sits beside them when they’re scared and listens without judgment, just like Ms. Jessica did for me.

My neck scar no longer defines me. It’s a daily reminder of my triumph over disease and how far I’ve come through my healing and recovery. Cancer disrupted my life, but it also gave me the chance to turn pain into purpose, and now I plan to use that purpose to help other children and teenagers find their own strength and courage, just like I did.