I'm Still Me
15 Years Living with Metastatic Breast Cancer: The Story of Stephanie Seban
In June 2011, at just 31 years old, Stephanie Seban received a phone call on her way to work that would alter the course of her life. A teacher with no family history of illness, she was diagnosed with metastatic breast cancer—news that arrived without warning and unfolded at a pace that left little room to process.
“There was fear, confusion, and a deep sense of the unknown,” she recalls. Appointments followed within days. Surgery came shortly after. “I didn’t really have time to process. I just followed the next step in front of me.”
Yet even in those earliest moments, something within her sharpened. An instinct told her that the first oncologist she met was not the right fit. She chose to trust that feeling—an early act of self-advocacy that would shape the years ahead. “My intuition became my compass from the very beginning,” she says. “I moved forward one decision at a time—scared, uncertain, but guided by that quiet inner voice.”
Learning There Is No “Silver Bullet”
Living with metastatic breast cancer quickly dismantled any illusion of certainty. “Everything is a try,” Stephanie explains. “There is no silver bullet.”
No treatment, no plan, no financial resource can promise an outcome. Facing moments when survival felt uncertain, she turned inward—and upward. Faith became her anchor. Fifteen years into her diagnosis, having defied statistics and survived life-threatening complications, she speaks with humility: “I am still here, by the grace of God, to share my story.”
Over time, her understanding of belief expanded. It is faith in something greater—but also faith in oneself: in intuition, inner strength, and resilience. “When you’re facing something that nothing tangible can fix, those things become everything.”
Redefining What a Full Life Looks Like
Some of the hardest losses were not only physical. Cancer reshaped the life she once imagined: the loss of the ability to have children, shifts in relationships, and a career path that changed direction.
“There were moments where it felt easy to measure my life against a more ‘conventional’ version of happiness,” she says.
What followed was not instant acceptance, but gradual reframing. A meaningful life does not have to follow a prescribed script. It can look different and still be purposeful, full, and beautiful. That perspective remains a daily practice—acknowledging what cancer has taken while honoring what it has given: deep friendships, unexpected opportunities, and clarity about what truly matters.
The Quiet Form of Strength
Stephanie’s understanding of strength has evolved. It is not always visible or dramatic. “Sometimes strength is simply the decision to keep going on the days when you don’t feel like you can,” she says. “It’s allowing yourself to rest.” In a life defined by uncertainty, resilience becomes less about bravado and more about consistency—the quiet decision to continue showing up. “Resilience isn’t always loud. Often, it’s the quiet choice to keep moving forward, one day at a time.”
Though often described as a “fighter,” she resists allowing cancer to define her identity. “I’ve seen how easily a diagnosis can become someone’s entire identity,” she says. Staying connected to who she is—funny, outgoing, loving, present—has been essential. “I am not my diagnosis—I’m still me.”
To Stephanie, “Living Spectacularly” is not about perfection. It is about participation. “It means choosing to fully participate in life, even when it’s uncertain,” she explains. It is protecting her peace, investing in meaningful relationships, and allowing joy to coexist alongside hardship. “It’s not about having a perfect story. It’s about living a real one—with depth, intention, and heart.”
From Isolation to Advocacy
When she was first diagnosed in 2011, social media looked very different. She didn’t know anyone her age living with metastatic breast cancer. Blogging began as a personal outlet—a way to process her experience. Over time, young women navigating similar diagnoses began reaching out. The isolation she had felt was shared. The metastatic breast cancer community—particularly younger women—was underserved and largely unheard. Her background as a teacher resurfaced in a new way. Sharing her story became less about having answers and more about offering connection. “If my experience could offer someone even a small sense of understanding, then it felt meaningful to do so.”
For those supporting someone with cancer, her advice is simple: take initiative. When someone is overwhelmed or exhausted, they often cannot articulate what they need. Rather than saying, Let me know if you need anything, send a meal. Drop off groceries. Write a thoughtful note. Equally important is consistency. A serious diagnosis can make others uncomfortable; sometimes they withdraw. What matters most is when people continue to show up with honesty and care. “Consistency, presence, and quiet action mean more than perfect words ever could.”
Stephanie also emphasizes self-advocacy. “We know our own bodies better than anyone else,” she says. If something feels wrong, take it seriously. Ask questions. Seek second opinions. Persist. “We are the CEOs of our own health.”
15 years after that first phone call, her life is not defined solely by cancer—but by how she has chosen to live alongside it.
In her words, spectacular living is not the absence of hardship, but the courage to remain fully engaged with life in spite of it.