Strong Enough to Feel
- Oct 31
- 5 min read
In a world that celebrates stoicism as strength, I discovered that true strength resides in awareness, acceptance, and the courage to feel.
I was in Barcelona when my husband told me he had cancer. My first reaction was confidence: a quiet certainty that everything would be all right. But minutes later, that confidence was joined by sadness, fear, despair, and even joy, because the next day I would finally visit La Sagrada Familia before returning home. It’s fascinating how we can experience all those emotions at once, and how one doesn’t cancel out the others; instead, they coexist, sharing space like roommates.
After my husband’s surgery and PET scan, the doctor delivered the news. The cancer was fast-advancing and aggressive, with early signs of metastasis. The worst part? Hearing the long and frightening list of side effects. It seemed impossible to believe that chemotherapy could truly heal him, especially because I had once healed from stage 3 precancerous cells through alternative medicine and believed he could too. But that path would take time: time he feared he didn’t have.
Leaving the hospital, I was in tears.My husband? Stoic.It took me three days to process a few essential realizations:
Between poison and death… well, poison
Physical disease is a way of healing the soul
His path to healing belongs to him; my role is to offer options and support him
During those three days, I cried as I had never cried before. On the second day, we attended a family dinner. All my in-laws together, all Swiss, all surely worried, yet all stoic… and I? I couldn’t stop crying! They were supportive, but as a Mexican, I felt completely out of place in our contrasting ways of expressing emotion.
The next day, we visited my husband’s best Swiss friend, who had lived in Mexico for over ten years and is married to a Mexican woman. I felt such relief when I saw tears welling up in his eyes and rolling down her face as they heard the news. For some reason, those tears made me feel less like a misfit and somehow stronger.
But what does “strong” really mean?
One of my husband’s colleagues told me, “Be strong.”
I asked, “What does it mean to be strong?”
“Not to show your feelings,” he said.
That definition didn’t resonate with me as I am familiar with the paradox of emotions: “The more you avoid pain, the stronger it becomes” (Ben-Shahar, 2025).
The question lingered: What does strength mean to me?
Two weeks passed. They were distressing weeks filled with family logistics, uncertainty, and endless searches for better outcomes. It felt like preparing for a long, uncomfortable trip, which, to me, is a far more compassionate way to approach cancer than seeing it as a battle. Facing cancer — or any illness — invites us on a journey toward deeper self-awareness, love, and compassion for ourselves and others. We live in a culture that teaches us to fight, to stay strong at any cost. But fighting drains the very energy we need to heal. Why do we need to be at war when what we truly need is understanding?
When chemotherapy began, something shifted. Miraculously, I started to feel very present — at peace and in harmony with what was. I no longer felt fear, worry, or the urge to cry. Once we entered action mode, everything became clearer.
But to reach that point, I first had to cry deeply, sit with my pain, and then choose a perspective that let me see life unfolding as it is and staying aware enough to find meaning in everything that happens. Through that experience, I discovered what being strong means to me: serenity with what is.
Then came the test: could that serenity stay intact when reality grew clearer?
Days went by, and with them came the side effects. The hardest and most painful part for me was my husband’s comments and reactions. Some drugs used in chemotherapy affect the central nervous system and can alter taste, sleep, and mood, sometimes making patients irritable toward those around them (Ioannou et al., 2022).
The last part wasn’t on the doctor’s list of side effects. Yet it reminded me how important it is for us, as caregivers, to set boundaries, not take things personally (Ruiz, 1998), and to engage in what brings us joy, like walking in the forest, which has a proven impact on our physical, emotional, and psychological well-being (Li, 2010).
Illness has a harder time taking root in a joyful body. That’s why doing something we love, something that makes us genuinely happy each day, is essential for a healthy life (Sadhguru, 2015).
The patient suffers in one way, and we, the caregivers, in another. Yet both have the opportunity to grow through hardship, to know ourselves more deeply, and — as Ben-Shahar says — to remember that it is by taking good care of ourselves that we can take good care of others.
The medical team’s kindness, professionalism, and care made the process surprisingly pleasant. A beautiful, harmonious environment truly nurtures well-being. They even introduced me to pineapple yogurt — which I ended up loving! It reminded me that in every situation, there’s always something good to be found… if we choose to see it.
As I write this, the situation is still unfolding, and we don’t know what the future holds. Yet I feel grateful for the opportunity my husband has had to explore meditation, spirituality, and alternative paths to healing — embracing the power of the “AND,” as Ben-Shahar teaches — weaving together traditional and holistic medicine. This period has brought us closer together, gifting us with wonderful people and the blessing of genuine friendships.
The barriers we set for growth are our own; once perspective shifts, everything becomes easier to embrace. May we never forget the privilege of being alive or the wisdom within our emotions — for when we understand them, strength melts into harmony, and life ceases to be a struggle, becoming instead a dance.
References
Ben-Shahar, T. [@talbenshahar]. (2025, October 8). The more you avoid pain, the stronger it becomes [Instagram post]. Instagram. https://www.instagram.com/p/DPjaGlfDYWj/?img_index=1
Ben-Shahar, Tal. Lectures for Happiness Studies Academy. Online, Spring–Fall 2024.
Ioannou, A., Paikousis, L., Papastavrou, E., Avraamides, M. N., Astras, G., & Charalambous, A. (2022). Effectiveness of virtual reality vs guided imagery on mood changes in cancer patients receiving chemotherapy treatment: A crossover trial. European Journal of Oncology Nursing, 61, 102188. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.ejon.2022.102188
Ruiz, D. M. (1998). Los cuatro acuerdos: Una guía práctica para la libertad personal. Urano.
Sadhguru. (2015). Cancer – A yogic perspective. Isha Foundation. https://books.google.com/books?id=Co8uDwAAQBAJ
Li, Q. (2010). Effect of forest bathing trips on human immune function. Environmental Health and Preventive Medicine, 15(1), 9–17. https://doi.org/10.1007/s12199-008-0068-3
National Cancer Institute. (2025, April 9). Emotions and cancer. https://www.cancer.gov/about-cancer/coping/feelings
Author’s Bio:
Dení Vázquez Ackermann is a co-author of The Happiness of Coaching. She studied communications, has an MA in Public Image Engineering, is a Whole Person Certified Coach and a Certified Happiness Trainer. After several years in the luxury industry, during a period of hardship, Dení discovered the essential role of gratitude, purpose, and meaning in life. She realized how important it was to add different components to a "magic pill" that would help her and her colleagues to avoid burnout and enhance self-satisfaction. This journey led her to the science of happiness, where she found her true calling. In this article, she shares her transformative process and insights. Find out more at: https://www.denivazquez.com/
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