The “Impostor Syndrome” of being a survivor on National Cancer Survivors Day

Impostor Syndrome- A psychological experience that causes people to doubt. They may attribute success to luck or a feeling of not belonging.

This Sunday is another National Cancer Survivor Day. It occurs each year on the first Sunday of June. There are walks held throughout the country, including one at Grant Park in Chicago. Even though I had Melanoma ten years ago, plus a couple of other less-major cancer events, I’ve never attended an event. I'm not quite sure I belong—Imposter Syndrome.

The National Cancer Foundation has its definition of who is a cancer survivor. “Anyone who has been diagnosed with cancer is considered a survivor through the end of their life.” Fine…by definition, I qualify. But, it doesn't say anything about the disease stages or the treatment's lack of severity. And that's where it gets tricky—and where I start to overthink this—and where the “impostor syndrome” comes in.

If it were only this, I could get past it. I would have headed downtown to walk in any of the events over the last decade. But this one gets a lot of publicity. Many folks get excited about doing this. They’ll let you know why. Here are a couple of them:

“I’m fifteen years into remission from Stage 4 breast cancer. I had both chemo and radiation. No relapses. Walking is my way to celebrate and show how grateful I am to still be here.”

“I was diagnosed with Pancreatic Cancer five years ago. They told me I would be lucky to live six months. I showed them and I’ll show everyone by going on this walk.”

There were many more like these two. You read these and compare your little Stage 1, two-hour surgery with no chemo or radiation and it’s hard not to get the impostor feels.

I take full possession of these feelings—they’re all mine. Nothing anyone did made them happen. In fact, the people who have been through it the worst are usually the ones most happy to hear your cancer story. They’re thrilled you didn’t have to go through the pain and suffering they did. In my ten years of ‘survivorship’, the spirit of caring and generosity from those who have suffered the most has always amazed me. I doubt that will ever stop.

I also admit that I may be overthinking this—something I do regularly about a lot of things. I go on walks for Parkinson's and Melanoma. Many people are attending who are much further along in the disease than myself and that's never stopped me. So, maybe it’s time I get over myself and head over to Grant Park and celebrate with the other Survivors. Being alive after dealing with this horrid disease is a wonderful thing to celebrate. We should never take it for granted. How about in 2026? That will give me an entire year to overthink it.