The Labels We Carry

Society loves to label people, we know this. But something I’ve realized lately is that we also love to label ourselves. Giving ourselves a label creates identity; it gives us a sense of purpose. But the transition between labels can be hard and scary, because it means letting go, even just a little, of a part of yourself that you’ve been holding onto so tightly.

When I decided to become a student missionary and teach on a tiny island for a year, that choice became a defining part of my life. I was doing something big, something meaningful, and for a while it felt like my entire purpose. Then they found the cancer, and suddenly my label changed to “cancer patient.” During treatment, I would have given anything to let go of that label, but it still became part of my identity.

Then I went into remission. While that was a huge relief, I didn’t know how to let go of the “patient” part. Yes, the cancer was gone from my body, but I didn’t feel healed, I still felt like a cancer patient. And when the cancer is gone, much of the attention goes away too. Oddly enough, once it was gone, I found myself missing that. We like being known for something, even if it is our cancer.

My identity as a survivor meant walking a lonely journey through a cloud of grief that felt all-consuming. But through that survivorship, I also began to see what I was capable of and how strong I truly am. There were days I cried on my kitchen floor under the weight of it all, but I also found beauty in the person the pain was shaping me into, who God was allowing the pain to shape me into.

Now, once again, I find myself in a time of transition. I’ve reached a point where cancer isn’t always at the front of my mind, sometimes I even forget about it for a little while. And that scares me. I don’t want to forget it, which surprises me and probably doesn’t make sense to most people. The cancer had such a profound impact on my life that forgetting it feels like it would mean going through it for nothing.

That’s part of why I’m writing this, so that maybe someone can read my experience and feel less alone.

Though this current transition is scary, it is also being replaced by another label: teacher. God has called me into the classroom, and in that, I am finding a new sense of identity. But through all of these shifts, there is one thing I must hold onto: God has given me each of these identities. Maybe He didn’t give me the cancer, but I believe He allowed it for a reason, to teach me that I am utterly dependent on Him as my Father.

Even as I cling to these defining aspects of my life, what remains steadfast is my identity as His child. I know…believing that isn’t always easy. My journey hasn’t been easy, and I’ve wrestled deeply with the question of “why.” But it’s because of this journey that I know I cannot walk through life on my own. I am utterly dependent on the One who created me.

He is my identity. He is my purpose. I am His child, and every other label comes second.