Meet Rebecca Watt: Stage 3C HER2-positive breast cancer survivor

Rebecca is an Indigenous woman, Indigenous health advocate, and Stage 3C HER2-positive breast cancer survivor who was diagnosed in 2020. Now six years in remission, she uses her lived experience to advocate for health equity, culturally safe care and greater awareness of the unique challenges Indigenous women face within healthcare systems. Her journey is one of resilience, healing and finding purpose beyond a cancer diagnosis

How did your cancer journey begin?

My cancer journey began in 2020, when I was diagnosed with Stage 3C HER2-positive breast cancer. I was young, and cancer was the last thing I expected to be navigating at that stage of my life. I remember being told that my life expectancy could be as little as three to four years. Hearing those words completely changed how I viewed my future. Suddenly, everything I had imagined for myself felt uncertain. Instead of thinking about my career, relationships, and future goals, I was thinking about survival. As a young Indigenous woman, I also found myself navigating a healthcare system that wasn't always designed with people like me in mind. I had to learn very quickly how to advocate for myself, ask difficult questions, and make sure my voice was heard. 

What did your treatment journey look like?

My treatment journey was physically, mentally, and emotionally exhausting. Cancer treatment is so much more than medical appointments and procedures. It's the uncertainty, the waiting, the side effects, and the emotional weight of not knowing what comes next.

There were moments when I felt incredibly strong and others when I felt completely overwhelmed. I had to learn to listen to my body, accept that I couldn't always function the way I used to, and recognize that rest wasn't a weakness.

Today, I'm incredibly grateful to say that I'm six years in remission. I've reached milestones I once wasn't sure I would live to see. I've also been discharged from oncology, which is something I never imagined hearing when I was first diagnosed.

But survivorship doesn't mean everything suddenly goes back to normal. Cancer changes your relationship with your body, your health, and your sense of security.

Is there anything you want to mention regarding mental health and cancer and how you dealt with that?

I think mental health is one of the most overlooked aspects of cancer, especially after treatment ends.

People often assume that once you're in remission, everything is fine and you should just be happy to be alive. While I'm incredibly grateful to be here, survivorship comes with its own challenges.

There's a particular kind of anxiety that comes with knowing how quickly your life can change. Even years later, routine scans, medical appointments, or an unfamiliar symptom can bring back the fear and uncertainty of my original diagnosis.

I've had to work through trauma, anxiety, and the emotional impacts of navigating a life-threatening illness at a young age.

For me, healing has involved therapy, ceremony, reconnecting with the land, and learning how to be present rather than constantly worrying about what might happen next. As an Indigenous woman, my connection to my culture, community, and the land has been an important part of that process.

I've also learned that gratitude and grief can coexist. I can be grateful to have survived cancer while still acknowledging everything the experience took from me.

I think we need to normalize conversations about mental health throughout treatment and long after someone is declared cancer-free. 

How did having cancer shift your relationships with friends and family?

Cancer has a way of revealing the importance of relationships and showing you who is genuinely present during difficult times.

It changed how I valued my time and energy, and it made me much more intentional about the relationships I choose to nurture.

I also realized that people don't always know how to support someone experiencing a serious illness. Sometimes people pull away because they don't know what to say, while others show up in ways you never expected.

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

The biggest advice I would give is to advocate for yourself and trust your instincts. You know your body better than anyone else. If something doesn't feel right, ask questions, seek another opinion, and don't be afraid to challenge the healthcare system when your concerns aren't being heard.

This is particularly important for Indigenous women, who continue to experience systemic racism and barriers to equitable healthcare.

I would also encourage people to give themselves permission to experience every emotion that comes with cancer. You don't have to be positive all the time. You don't have to turn every difficult experience into a lesson, and you certainly don't owe anyone strength or resilience every single day.

Find people who allow you to be vulnerable. Seek mental health support if you need it and find ways to reconnect with the things that make you feel grounded.

Most importantly, remember that your diagnosis is something you're experiencing, but it doesn't define everything about who you are.

Is there anything else you wanted to share for this interview?

One thing I really want people to understand is that cancer doesn't end when treatment ends.

When I was first diagnosed, I was told I might only have three to four years to live. Today, six years later, I'm pursuing my Master's degree, continuing my advocacy work, travelling, reconnecting with my community, and building a future I once wasn't sure I would have.

Cancer fundamentally changed the direction of my life. It influenced my decision to work in Indigenous health leadership, policy, and advocacy because I experienced firsthand what it feels like to navigate a healthcare system when your life depends on it.

As an Indigenous woman, I also recognize that my experience exists within a much larger conversation about healthcare inequities, systemic racism, and the importance of culturally safe care.

I don't necessarily believe everything happens for a reason. I wouldn't wish cancer on anyone, and I don't think we need to romanticize suffering to find meaning in our experiences.

But I do believe we can decide what we want to do with the life we have.

Six years ago, I was fighting for the opportunity to have a future. Today, I get to live that future. And I don't take that for granted.

If there's one message I want to leave people with, it's that survivorship isn't just about being alive. It's about having the opportunity to live meaningfully, on your own terms, while recognizing that healing isn't always linear.