Finding Purpose in the Hardest Moments

Twenty-five years ago, my life changed.

On September 11, 2001, a beautiful late summer morning, I was working at a creative

agency in downtown Manhattan. My office was just three blocks from the World Trade

Center. As one of only a handful of coworkers, I was inside my office when both towers

collapsed. Within moments, complete darkness surrounded our building. Within a few

minutes, light broke through only for it to happen again.

Shortly thereafter I made my way outside without really knowing where I was going, but

knowing I had to get away. Through the dust and confusion, I followed the crowds of

people walking north of lower Manhattan to where we could breathe. Like all New

Yorkers that day, I was simply trying to get to safety.

While the city began the long process of rebuilding, our company returned to the office,

as the ruins of the World Trade Center continued to smolder. Everyday, we worked in

an environment filled with an acrid smell that is difficult to describe. Still, we continued to

show up. New York was fighting to heal, and we were attempting to do the same.

Eventually, our company went out of business as did many others who were located in

the WTC and Financial district. Rather than let that setback define what came next, I

took another leap. Alongside two of my close friends, I helped start Squeaky, an

interactive agency that we built together. We brought our individual skills together:

technology, design, and storytelling to help companies communicate and build

connections in innovative ways. It was where I learned firsthand how powerful the

internet could be as a tool for bringing people together.

Then, seven years after September 11, my life changed again.

I was diagnosed with breast cancer, stage II.

Cancer did not run in my family, in fact, my BRCA 1 & 2 tests came back negative. I

was healthy and young which made the diagnosis much harder to accept. Over time,

evidence emerged connecting serious illnesses among people exposed to the toxic

environment around Ground Zero. I was one of the thousands of people who fought or

are fighting cancer and will continue to be impacted by it for as long as I live.

But cancer was not the end of my story. It did not define me. I survived and felt lucky.

During my fight, I made a promise to myself: if I could make the journey even a little

easier for the next person who heard the words, "You have cancer," I had to try to help.

That promise became IHadCancer.com.

After my own diagnosis, I wanted to create the kind of community I wish existed when I

was going through treatment, a place where people affected by cancer could connect

with others who understood what they were experiencing. I was able to use Squeaky's

strengths in technology, design, and community-building to create a platform that was,

in many ways, ahead of its time: an online community built around the idea that people

facing any type of cancer could learn from and support one another.

We built and funded the platform at no charge to users — we believed in its mission.

What began as an effort to connect people affected by cancer grew into an award-

winning community that, over the last 14 years, has helped hundreds of thousands of

people share their experiences, find support, and connect.

My experiences have taught me that strength isn't only about facing difficult challenges.

Sometimes it's about believing in yourself in the face of hardship knowing that there is a

path forward. 9/11 reminds me of that collective strength in both communities, Cancer

and Americans who suffered from 9/11.

Lower Manhattan today is a different place than it was and I am as well. We now see a

space that has changed enormously, overcoming a tragedy (but not forgotten), and has

transformed into a vibrant part of the city again. There is life and energy in the same

area that was once devastated.

September 11 changed my life. Cancer changed my life. But I would not allow it to

define my life.

The recent release of thousands of pages of records about the air quality in Lower

Manhattan in the aftermath of the towers collapsing is an important reminder of why

transparency matters. For those who became sick, and for families who have lived with

the consequences, having access to the facts matters. The truth may not change what

happened, but it can help acknowledge what people experienced, answer questions

that have remained for years, and ensure that future generations learn from it.

I believe there is real value in sharing what we've learned from our personal

experiences, good and bad. That is why I do it, and why IHadCancer.com exists.

And perhaps that is one way we can turn something painful into something meaningful

together. Keep moving forward. It’s the only way through.

— Mailet Lopez, Cofounder of Squeaky.com and IHadCancer.com