I built this because I couldn't find it when I needed it.

As I stretched my chest on the foam roller, I felt a sharp pain tearing through my right breast. Sharp enough to make me pull my arm in. Sharp enough that I could no longer ignore the small lump I had felt a month prior.

I was called back for a second mammogram. Then a biopsy. On the way out, the receptionist asked if I was okay. If I needed a lift home. I drove myself home, walked past my husband and two young children, went straight to our bedroom and closed the door. Then I burst into tears.

The following Monday, my husband and I sat in a sanitised doctor's office as she said the words: "It is breast cancer."

My first thought was: You have got to be kidding me. Haven't we been through enough already? Like many women, the year prior to this diagnosis had been tough enough.

And then, almost immediately, something shifted.

I guess there is more for me to learn here.

Little did I realise how confronting the next few years would be.

For 25 years, I had been a health professional. Now I was about to learn everything about being on the other side, as a patient. Happy, healthy, smiley Leanne. The giver. Now the receiver.

I had hospital appointments every day that week; it was exhausting. On the weekend, in preparation for chemotherapy, I cut off my long curls. Tuesday — one week after diagnosis — I sat in the chemotherapy chair.

The medical system is extraordinary at saving lives. It moves quickly, no waiting, no hesitation, just get in there and treat it. And that is exactly what it should do. But it doesn't give you time to breathe. To absorb the shock. To process the whirlwind that just entered your life without permission.

My oncology team was incredible at treating the disease in my body. But who was going to take care of Leanne, the human being? My emotions? My mental state? My spirit?

I realised I was the only one who could do that. It was up to me. I had to make a choice: I chose to live, fully and deeply, regardless of the outcome.

I wanted to be able to look my husband and children in the eyes and know I had done everything I could to overcome this adversity, and in doing so, teach my children how to handle the life challenges that would undoubtedly come their way.

I chose to use the medical system to treat my symptoms but also focused on doing the inner work to transform myself more deeply.

I searched for communities, coaches and mentors who could walk alongside me. Someone who saw cancer as a journey, an opportunity for growth, not a limitation. I couldn't find what I needed. So I created it. For myself first. And then for every woman diagnosed after me.

That is how A Hero's Journey was born.

Four years after my initial diagnosis, I found another lump and had significant pain in my left breast. The fear returned. The panic. I knew how to handle it, but it resurfaced like a gremlin in the quiet moments.

I had to dig deep. I had to trust myself and everything I had built.

Then one morning I woke up and heard a clear, calm voice inside me:

"Leanne, you are not being asked to survive anymore. You are being asked to create."

From that moment, I knew I was going to be okay. I had moved past the cancer — not around it, not despite it. Through it.

Six years on, I have a deeper understanding of myself than I ever imagined possible. I have learned to say no to what no longer serves me, and yes to life in ways I never did before. I wake up with purpose every single day and see life as an adventure to be lived.

I am on a mission to reach as many women as possible with one simple message:

Your spirit is unstoppable. Breast cancer is not who you are. It does not define you.

To the woman reading this today —

The fear and overwhelm that comes with a diagnosis can be crippling. Our power doesn't come from perfection; it comes from how we navigate the tough days. The small steps we take each day to align ourselves with joy and the good that still surrounds us.

The more you can recenter yourself in a place of gratitude and love for every person and aspect in your life, the better the environment will be for your body — and your spirit — to heal.

Become an active part of this community. Let yourself be seen and heard. You matter. Your story matters. And when you feel ready, reach back and help another woman find her way through.

You are not being asked to simply survive. You are being asked to create your best life, regardless of your circumstances. Starting today.