 At the age of 34, I was ready to launch into the world. I had just finished my doctorate. I was eager to find a full-time job, to meet my life partner, and to start a family. I was ready. Yet life... life had other plans. Instead, I became one of nearly 8,000 young people between the age of 15 to 39, diagnosed with cancer each year in Canada. I became a patient in a world where the terms young adult and cancer don't quite fit. Where we don't quite know how cancer affects young adults, or how young adults living with cancer feel. A world we don't quite understand. Sitting in the chemo room surrounded by people that could easily be my grandparents, I felt out of place. I felt alone. When I asked how treatment could affect my ability to have children, I felt misunderstood. People with your type of cancer aren't wanting children. The average patients are 65 years old. When friends died too soon, I felt anger and guilt. Why had I survived when others had not? And when treatment was complete, I felt relief, yet fear. Questions swirled in my head. How much time do I have? When will I need treatment again? Can I date? Will someone want to? Is it fair to want children knowing I still have cancer? In many ways, the journey had just begun. Yet cancer also shaped my point of view, the way I see the world. With cancer, I began to realize what was most important. I noticed the little things, the birds, my breath, the morning dew. I surrounded myself with love. I discovered the value of connecting with other young people living with cancer. It helped normalize my experiences, to feel less alone. I learned to set boundaries, to sleep more, and to ask for what I need. And although success remains something I strive for, I'm no longer willing to compromise my health and well-being for it. In many ways, cancer has given me permission to say yes to the life I want. It's reminded me that I don't want to wait to live. I want to live now. Life as a young adult living with cancer is rife with complexity and paradox. And I'm not a child or an elderly person. I am a young adult, and my experiences living with cancer are different. What can you learn from me? What can you learn from us? How can our lived experience with cancer inform more patient-centered research, leadership, education, and practice? How can we treat young adults living with cancer differently? How can we better respond to their complex realities? With nearly 8,000 young people diagnosed with cancer each year in Canada, how can we afford not to?