Meet Kendra Carter: Triple-Negative Breast Cancer Survivor

Kendra is a wife, mom, sister, daughter, and finance professional that was diagnosed with stage 1a triple negative breast cancer at 36 years old. She enjoys spending time with family, attending car shows, and has developed a love for cooking. As a breast cancer survivor, she not only wants to spread awareness but wants to inspire action and build community.

How did your cancer journey begin?

My cancer journey actually started in my teenage years. My mom was diagnosed with breast cancer when I was in middle school, so I characterize my middle school and high school years as a time when I was a caregiver. I tried to support her through everything she was going through the best way I could, especially given how young I was and how little I understood at the time. I remember cancer taking a toll on her both mentally and physically. My mom has since passed away, and now that I'm going through my own cancer journey, I often think back to her experience. At the time, I expected her to rebound from cancer and return to the person she was before her diagnosis. Now, being in that position myself and no longer being able to talk to her about it, I understand that she was never going to be exactly the same person again. I know I'm never going to be Kendra 1.0 again. I'm learning how to become Kendra 2.0 and figuring out who that person is. My mom's experiences have shaped the way I navigate my own journey, even though medical guidance has come a long way since then.

After those caregiving years, I entered what I call my "previvor" stage. Because my mom had breast cancer, along with multiple aunts on both my maternal and paternal sides and my grandmother, I knew I needed to be aware of my own risk factors. Cancer was hitting too close to home for me not to have that conversation. Thankfully, my doctor was very proactive and suggested that I might be a candidate for genetic testing. About 10 years ago, I discovered that I carried the BRCA1 genetic mutation. I remember someone asking me at an educational seminar how that knowledge impacted me mentally and whether I thought about it all the time. Surprisingly, I didn't. At that point, I hadn't had any biological children, and having children was something that was very important to me. I was interested in potentially having a preventative mastectomy around age 40, but I wanted to have children first. So, I continued living my life while maintaining a heightened awareness of my body. I knew cancer was a possibility, and I wanted to make sure I understood what was normal for me so I could recognize and speak up if something didn't feel right.

In March 2026, my husband and I were goofing around, and he was tickling me under my armpit. He suddenly noticed something unusual and said, "Hey, what's this? This kind of feels weird. We've never felt that before." The lump was actually located in my axillary tail, which is breast tissue that extends toward the armpit. Although it's technically part of the breast, it felt like the lump was in my armpit rather than my breast. I had also been experiencing itching and pain in that area, so I decided it was time to see a doctor. When I checked my other side, I noticed a similar lump there as well. I went through the mammogram and biopsy process, and on April 16, 2026, I was officially diagnosed with triple-negative breast cancer at 36 years old.

What did your treatment journey look like after your diagnosis?

When I was diagnosed, my doctors explained that triple-negative breast cancer is aggressive and that we needed to act quickly to stop it in its tracks. A major part of my treatment plan was a bilateral, or double, mastectomy because cancer was present on both sides. Surgery became a significant part of my cancer care, and after my mastectomy, I was told that I was in remission, which was something I was incredibly grateful for. I was also very appreciative of my doctors and the care I received. Looking back, I'm thankful that I had already considered a preventative mastectomy when I learned about my BRCA1 mutation. Although I had originally thought about having that surgery around age 40, my diagnosis came earlier than expected. Because I had already had those conversations, I felt prepared to move forward with a bilateral mastectomy.

The second major part of my treatment has been chemotherapy. My treatment plan includes 16 rounds of chemotherapy, and I'm currently undergoing active treatment to help prevent recurrence. My first four cycles consisted of cyclophosphamide and doxorubicin, commonly referred to as the "Red Devil." That regimen really took a toll on me physically. I experienced significant nausea and was completely drained of energy. My appointments were every two weeks, and during that time, my village truly showed up for me. My family and support system helped care for my children because there were days when I honestly couldn't even care for myself. My two youngest children were just three and one years old at the time, and I simply didn't have the energy to do everything I normally would. I felt completely deflated.

After those first four cycles, I transitioned to 12 rounds of Taxol. My doctors had told me that this treatment would likely be easier on me, but after how difficult the first regimen had been, I wasn't sure what to expect. Thankfully, they were right. I've experienced significantly fewer side effects with Taxol. I still have some side effects, but they aren't nearly as debilitating as the ones I experienced during my first regimen. I'm finally starting to feel like I can do things again. I can get out of the house, enjoy life, and feel more like myself. I try to keep things in perspective and remind myself how much worse I could be feeling. I'm grateful for where I am today and how far I've come.

How has cancer affected your mental health, and what has helped you cope?

One thing other cancer survivors told me when I was first diagnosed was that your outlook on your journey can have a major impact on how you navigate it. For me, staying positive became a non-negotiable. Of course, I don't want to go through cancer. Nobody wants to experience this. If someone gave me the choice between going through cancer and keeping my same old, regular breasts, I would absolutely choose not to have cancer. But we're where we are today, and I realized that maintaining a positive mindset was something I needed to help myself get through it.

I've honestly been overwhelmed by a lot of things in my life lately. I have two little ones, but I also have two big kids who have lived with us for about eight years. I have my husband, my family, and so many responsibilities outside of my diagnosis. Cancer has impacted all of them as well. There are also other unexpected challenges that continue happening in life, even while you're dealing with cancer. For example, one of my sister's big kids recently got into a car accident. Thankfully, she was discharged from the hospital, although she did suffer a fractured ankle. It's moments like that when you realize that life doesn't stop just because you're going through cancer. There are still so many competing priorities, and you're still trying to care for the people around you. Through all of this, I've made an effort to find one or two things to be grateful for each day. Sometimes that's what carries me through the hardest moments.

Another thing that has made a tremendous difference in my mental health is finding support communities. When I was first diagnosed, I didn't want to talk to anybody about cancer. I just wanted to go to treatment, do what I needed to do, and go back home. But I've learned how valuable it is to connect with other women who truly understand what I'm experiencing. I feel like I belong to a community of women who understand what I'm going through, what I've already gone through, and what I may experience in the future. Being able to learn from their experiences has helped me navigate my own journey in ways I couldn't have imagined. My faith has also become much stronger throughout this experience. I truly don't believe I would be sitting here with the sense of peace I have today if I didn't have my faith to lean on. It's something that has helped me stay mentally focused on the bigger picture and remember what I'm working toward.

There's also a particular experience during chemotherapy that taught me just how powerful our thoughts can feel. When I was transitioning from my first chemotherapy regimen to Taxol, everyone kept telling me that the second regimen would have fewer side effects and that I would probably feel much better. But mentally, I had already convinced myself that I was going to continue feeling terrible throughout the entire process. I remember going into that next treatment with the mindset that I felt awful and was going to keep feeling awful. During that treatment, I had one of the worst experiences I'd had throughout chemotherapy. I started vomiting and had a very difficult physical reaction. Looking back, what stood out to me was that although the treatment itself was one of my worst experiences, I actually felt better physically during that phase of chemotherapy than I had during my previous regimen. That experience made me reflect on how much my thoughts and expectations were affecting the way I approached treatment. I learned firsthand that what we put into our minds can influence how we experience and navigate difficult situations. Now, I try to remind myself not to automatically expect the worst. I don't want to mentally put myself in a position where I'm anticipating something terrible before it even happens. For me, protecting my mindset, finding gratitude, leaning on my faith, and connecting with other survivors have all been incredibly important.

How has having cancer shifted your relationships with friends and family?

There are two things you should know about me: I'm naturally a giver, and I like to be in control. I give my time, energy, and attention to the people around me. I have a family that I love supporting, and I've always been someone who wants to take care of others. But being a giver and wanting to control everything are two qualities that don't necessarily work very well when you receive a cancer diagnosis. Cancer has taught me that my family and friends don't need me to give every single part of myself to them. They can give to me, too. Before my diagnosis, I always felt like I didn't need to receive anything from anyone. I just wanted to give. Now, I'm learning that the people who love me don't expect me to run myself into the ground trying to take care of everyone else. That's been a major shift in my relationships, and I'm learning to embrace the idea that I can rely on other people in the same way they've always relied on me.

From a control perspective, I've also started setting more boundaries. I'm learning when I need to say no and when I need to ask someone else for help. As I continue becoming this 2.0 version of myself, I'm trying to find the right balance between what I can give, what I can control, and what I need to release because it's outside of my control. Those have probably been the biggest changes in how I approach my relationships since my diagnosis.

What advice or tips do you have for others facing similar circumstances?

I have four major pieces of advice that I would share with anyone navigating a cancer diagnosis.

1. Find doctors you trust.

This is probably my biggest piece of advice. You need doctors who believe you, listen to your concerns, and are willing to work with you to determine the best path forward. We all want to live long lives and be here for our children, our families, and the people we love. You want a medical team that shares those goals and is committed to helping you achieve them. I'm incredibly thankful for the medical team I've had throughout my journey. I wouldn't necessarily say I chose my hospital system intentionally. It happened somewhat by chance, but I'm grateful it worked out the way it did. My team has helped me navigate everything from appointments and treatment planning to financial resources and support groups. I jokingly tell people that this is the one part of my life where, despite being someone who likes to control everything, I don't actually have to do all the planning. My doctors have everything laid out for me. I just have to show up. I don't have to feel like I have everything figured out because I trust that my team does. I just need to know when and where I need to be. That level of trust has been incredibly valuable.

2. Trust the process.

I know firsthand how terrifying and difficult cancer treatment can be, especially when you're someone who likes to be in control. One thing I had to learn was that I'm not clinically trained or qualified to give my doctors medical advice. Of course, I can share my concerns and provide insight into how I'm feeling, but I also need to trust the professionals who are caring for me. I actually have a funny story about this. When I was scheduling my bilateral mastectomy, my doctor recommended six weeks of recovery. I immediately told my boss, "I'll be back in three weeks. Don't worry." I have no idea what kind of gold star I thought I was going to receive or why I felt the need to prove that I was Superwoman. But I can tell you one thing: I absolutely was not back at work in three weeks. I remember telling my boss afterward, "There's a reason why I work in finance and not as a doctor. I'm just going to stick to what I do." That experience taught me that sometimes you really do have to trust the process and give your body the time it needs.

3. Join support communities.

When I was first in the hospital, a social worker came into my room during my first or second day and told me about the classes and support groups they offered. At first, I remember thinking, "Okay, you can give me the information, but I'm probably not going to go." I took the information anyway. Eventually, I decided to show up, and it's been history ever since. Joining those communities has been one of the best decisions I've made throughout my journey. My advice is to at least give it a chance. You don't have to commit to anything right away, but take that first step, see what the community is like, and then decide whether it's something that could benefit you. You might be surprised by how much it helps.

4. Document your journey.

Before cancer, I wasn't someone who particularly enjoyed being in front of the camera or keeping a journal. But throughout this process, I've realized how important it is for me to document what I'm experiencing. I want to be able to look back one day and say, "Look how far I've come." There have been some really difficult moments, but I know that when I look back, I'll be able to see all the work I've done and everything I've overcome. I'm looking forward to the day when I'm finished with active treatment and my final reconstruction surgery, and I can pause and reflect on this entire experience. Memories fade and become distant over time. As difficult as this chapter has been, I don't want to forget it. I want to remember the challenges, the progress, and the moments that helped shape who I'm becoming.

Is there anything else you would like to share about your journey?

One thing I want people to understand is that everyone's cancer journey is different. Even if two people have the same type of cancer at the same stage, their treatments and experiences can look completely different. But despite those differences, we're still connected through our diagnoses and the experiences that come with them. Something I always come back to is the idea of having faith the size of a mustard seed. If you've ever seen a mustard seed, you know how incredibly small it is. That's something I hold onto. Even when things feel overwhelming, I remind myself that sometimes all you need is that little bit of faith.

I also hold onto the promise that healing always comes. That's something I believe deeply, and it has shaped the way I live and approach my journey. Knowing that my testimony could help someone else is one of the biggest reasons I continue sharing my story. I want people to understand that ignoring something doesn't mean it will go away. Ignoring changes in your body or concerns about your health can have consequences, and those consequences can be significant. That's why spreading awareness and encouraging people to take action is so important to me. I want others to know that there is life on the other side of a cancer diagnosis, but you have to give yourself the opportunity to understand your health, recognize when something isn't right, and take the necessary steps to protect yourself. My hope is that by sharing my experience, I can encourage someone else to pay attention to their body, advocate for themselves, and take action when they need to. If my story can help even one person, then continuing to share my journey is worth it.