There’s a moment that happens more often than people realize.

Someone hears your story and responds with what they believe is encouragement:
“You’re such a fighter.”
“You beat it — you’re a survivor.”
“You’re thriving now, right?”

And depending on the day — or the person — each of those words can either land beautifully… or feel completely off.

Because language, especially in cancer, isn’t neutral. It carries weight. It shapes identity. And sometimes, it assigns one.

Over the years, both in my own experience and in the many conversations I’ve had within the cancer community, I’ve seen just how personal these labels are. Words like fighter, survivor, and thriver aren’t interchangeable — they reflect different ways people understand what they’ve been through, and who they are now.

The “Fighter”

This is often the first label people reach for. It’s meant to empower — to frame the experience as something courageous and active.

And for some, it fits.

I know it did for me.

I’ve been a long-time fan of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. During my treatment, watching it in real time became something I leaned on more than I expected. It gave me a language, a mindset — a way to make sense of what I was going through. So much so that I got a tattoo that says: “Fight Cancer Like a Slayer.”

At the time, that was my identity. It felt strong. It felt clear. It felt like the only way to understand what I was facing.

But over time, I’ve come to realize that identity doesn’t have to be that fixed.

The idea of being a fighter can be empowering — but it can also quietly suggest that outcomes
are tied to effort. That if you “fight hard enough,” you win. And that’s not how cancer works.
Not everyone feels like they chose a fight. Some people are navigating, enduring, adapting —
and all of those are just as valid.

The “Survivor”

This is the most widely used term — and even here, there’s nuance.

In many medical and advocacy spaces, “survivor” is used from the point of diagnosis onward.
It’s meant to be inclusive.

But personally, it doesn’t always land the same way.

For some, survivor feels empowering — a marker of resilience and continuation. For others, it can feel premature, or disconnected from how they’re feeling day to day, especially when long- term effects like fatigue are still very present.

Not everyone feels like they’ve “survived” something that still impacts them.

The “Thriver”

This one has emerged more recently — often used to signal growth beyond survival.

It’s hopeful. Forward-looking.

But it can also carry pressure.

Because not everyone feels like they’re thriving — and suggesting they should be can unintentionally overlook the reality that survivorship isn’t always linear, and it isn’t always easy.

More Than One Word

What I’ve come to understand — both personally and through the people I’ve met — is that identity in survivorship isn’t static.

The version of me that got that tattoo needed the word fighter. It helped me get through something incredibly difficult.

The version of me now understands that there are more dimensions to who I am — and that those can shift over time.

And that’s okay.

Some people prefer “person living with cancer.”
Some resonate with “survivor.”
Some reject labels entirely.

There isn’t a right answer — there’s only what feels true to the person living it.

A Reflection for All of Us

If you’ve been through cancer, you get to choose the words that feel right — and you’re allowed to change them as you evolve.

If you’re supporting someone who has, there’s a quiet but powerful shift you can make: instead of naming their experience for them, create space for them to name it themselves.

Because feeling seen isn’t about being labeled correctly — it’s about being understood.

The language we use doesn’t just describe experience. It shapes how that experience is carried forward.

And sometimes, the most important thing we can offer isn’t the right word — it’s the willingness to listen for it.

— – Written by: Peter Laneas
Advocacy & Engagement Lead
Cancer Fatigue Services