PUBLISHED: 29th October 2026
by Sam
My aunt died in 2008. She had breast cancer first, and then ovarian cancer. Years later, when we began to understand more about our family medical history, we discovered the one thing connecting us: a BRCA1 mutation.
My cousin eventually learned she carried the mutation and chose to have preventive surgeries. I knew testing was available to me, too, but I waited. I didn’t get tested until after I had my three children.
That was intentional. I knew myself well enough to know that if I learned I carried BRCA when I was younger, the fear could become something I organized my life around. I didn’t want BRCA making decisions for me before I had even had the chance to build the life I wanted. I wanted my children. I wanted to live without constantly wondering when cancer might come.
Then, at 38, I was ready to know. I tested positive for a pathogenic BRCA1 mutation.
There is something surreal about being completely healthy and choosing major surgeries because of what might happen. You’re making enormous decisions about your body while, technically, nothing is wrong with it. And yet I had already seen what this mutation could do.
Living in Hawaii, after my diagnosis, I researched surgeons and options across the country because I wanted to know that wherever I went, I would be getting the best care I could find.
In the end, I stayed home.
I found an incredible team here in Hawaii who made me feel understood, safe and comfortable with my decisions. In May 2026, I had a bilateral nipple-sparing mastectomy with breast reconstruction and nerve allograft reinnervation. In September, I completed the next stage of reconstruction with implant exchange and fat grafting.
My pathology showed no cancer. Those words meant everything.
I still have another major decision and surgery ahead of me to address my ovarian cancer risk. That part scares me. There are days when I don’t feel particularly brave about any of this. I think that’s important to say, because choosing risk-reducing surgery doesn’t mean you’re fearless. I can be terrified of surgery and still know why I’m doing it.
I want to live.
I want to watch my children grow up. I want as many years with them as I can possibly get. And if there are actions within my control that can give me a better chance of doing that, I want to take that chance.
I’ve also come to see my BRCA1 mutation differently than I expected. It feels like a gift from my aunt.
She didn’t have the opportunity I have. She couldn’t take what happened to her and use that knowledge to change what might happen next. But because of her, my family started asking questions. Because of her, my cousin knew. Because of both of them, I knew to get tested when I was ready.
And because I know, I get choices.
I don’t think BRCA has to own my life. For me, learning that I carry this mutation ultimately gave me more control over it. I can be scared. I can grieve the parts of my body I’ve had to change. I can wrestle with the decisions that are still ahead of me.
But I can also be grateful.
My aunt’s story didn’t end with her. It became information that traveled through our family and eventually reached me.
What once felt like something I was afraid to know now feels like one of the greatest gifts she could have left me: the opportunity to know my risk, make my choices and fight for the chance to be here.
Of Hawaiian, Chinese and Arab heritage, I believe deeply in human connection and in using whatever role she occupies to help others realize their potential and pursue the lives they imagine. That same belief has made the connection, knowledge, and support she has found within the BRCA community especially meaningful.
Sam is a Hawaii-based technology and content executive, artist, musician and mom of three. Her career has spanned streaming media, real estate technology, product leadership, and community and content strategy, with a consistent focus on building products and experiences that help people connect, grow and succeed.