MY STORY

I’m South African, and in 2023 I made Hong Kong home.
By day, I work in finance. Outside of work, I was always happiest when I was moving. Whether it was an early morning F45 class, a long ride, a trail run, a hike or planning my next trip, I loved being outdoors. Movement wasn’t just exercise to me. It was where I found freedom, clarity and joy.

Life wasn’t perfect, but it was full.

Like most people, I assumed life would continue much as it always had. I had plans, goals and adventures I was looking forward to. Cancer simply wasn’t part of the picture.

Then, in April 2025, at 39 years old, I was diagnosed with HER2-positive breast cancer.

Almost overnight, my world became one of scans, biopsies, blood tests, chemotherapy, surgery and targeted therapy. I found myself learning words I’d never heard before and making decisions I never imagined I’d have to make.

For the next year, cancer became my full-time job.
Some days I felt strong.
Some days I barely recognised the person looking back at me in the mirror.
There were moments of fear, uncertainty and exhaustion, but there were also moments of laughter, kindness and hope. Those moments often arrived when I least expected them.

Then, slowly, treatment came to an end.
I thought that meant life would simply go back to normal.
It didn’t.

Looking back now, I don’t think cancer changed who I am. I think it changed how I see the world.

It taught me to appreciate ordinary days.
To protect my time, my energy and my peace.
To move my body because I can, not because I’m chasing a finish line or trying to look a certain way.
To stop waiting for the perfect time to do the things that matter.

Cancer will always be part of my story. It just isn’t the whole story.

Somewhere along the way, I realised this experience couldn’t end with my own recovery. I wanted to turn it into something that might help someone else.

Today, I’m still working in finance. I’m still travelling. I’m still exploring the outdoors and moving my body whenever I can.

The difference is that now I’m also building something alongside it.

Something that I hope will make this journey a little easier for the next person.

WHY I’M SHARING THIS

When I was diagnosed, I found plenty of information about breast cancer.

What I struggled to find was someone who made it all feel a little less overwhelming.

I wanted honest stories. I wanted practical advice. I wanted someone to explain the things that don’t always come up in the consultation room. The questions you think of at 2am. The emotions that catch you off guard. The small things that somehow become the big things.

I wanted to hear from someone who’d been there before.

That’s why I created SheBlooms -a play on my name, but also a belief I’ve come to hold: no matter what chapter life brings, we all have the capacity to keep growing.

To me, blooming isn’t about pretending life is beautiful all the time. It isn’t a before-and-after moment where everything suddenly feels okay again. It’s what happens in the middle. It’s finding a way to keep growing through life’s hardest seasons.

Sometimes that growth is obvious. Sometimes it looks like getting out of bed, asking for help, making it to your treatment, or simply making it through one more day. It’s different for all of us.

My hope is that if you’re navigating breast cancer yourself, you’ll find reassurance, trustworthy information and the comfort of knowing you’re not walking this road alone.

But this website isn’t just for people with breast cancer.

It’s also for the partners, parents, children, friends, colleagues who are trying to support someone they care about. Cancer affects so many more people than the one who receives the diagnosis, and understanding what the journey can look like often helps us show up for each other in better ways.

This space brings together my own experiences, and the things I’ve learnt along the way (and disclaimer: it’s by no means medical advice). Not because I have all the answers, but because sometimes hearing someone say, “I’ve been there too,” is exactly what you need.


If something on this website helps you feel a little more informed, a little more understood, or a little less alone, then it’s done exactly what I hoped it would.

I used to think strength meant pushing through. Now I think strength also looks like asking for help, cancelling plans, resting when your body asks you to, and trusting that slowing down isn’t the same as giving up.

Whether you’re newly diagnosed, in treatment, figuring out life afterwards, or supporting someone you love, I’m really glad you’re here.

You’re not walking this path alone. ♡