11 year old Mel was living life to funnest and fullest. In 2014, from playing outside with friends, I felt a bump on my right temple. I showed my mom who asked if I had been hit with a ball. That week, she took me to our local doctor, who said it was probably just allergies and would go down in a few days. My mom left that appointment with a gut feeling it wasn’t allergies, and after a couple of days when nothing changed, she took me to another doctor, who also didn’t think anything of it. Not knowing what to do next, there was a fellow doctor who stayed, who said he would do a biopsy.

The biopsy came back cancerous. At such a young age, I didn’t understand how my life was fully about the change.

Then came the hardest change in my cancer story. At just 12 years old, I was going to lose my right eye to cancer. Having such a physical change, I started to struggle with my appearance. For a long time, I wanted to feel and be “normal”; to be beautiful like everyone else.

From there, I had an extensive surgery and started multiple cancer treatments. My childhood changed from playing outside with friends everyday, to being in the hospital.

When I thought that I was getting closer to being free of cancer, during my freshman year of high school, my cancer had returned. I went back and had another extensive surgery.

Then during my junior year of high school, my cancer took a turn. My cancer had spread to my liver. I started a new treatment, one that took the biggest emotional toll on me - the one where I started to lose who I was.

After finding myself, I chose to keep fighting and was able to live one of my biggest hopes: going to college! After my freshman year of college, just as things began to feel normal, my cancer continued to spread. While trying to balance a college life, I was going to the health clinic on campus between classes and traveling monthly for liver treatment.

By the end of my junior year, my cancer spread to multiple new areas. It was time to try a more demanding treatment, my hardest one I’ve faced yet. With this treatment, my biggest fear came true - I would be losing my hair to cancer. To some, hair is just hair, but for me, my hair was the last thing I felt my cancer hadn’t taken from me. I didn’t want this fear to become a reality, so I avoided asking the question, even though deep down I knew it was true. I started my treatment on June 13, 2025.

After almost two weeks in the hospital, I remember touching my hair and a clump of it came out. I stopped touching my hair in hopes it would just stay. After a couple of weeks being home recovering, as my hair continued to fall out, I knew it was time to let go of what I was holding onto. I slowly worked up the courage and combed my hair. I sat on the bathroom floor, holding all of my fallen hair in my hands - feeling like my cancer had taken the last piece of me. I couldn’t even touch my head or look in the mirror that day because I thought I wouldn’t love the person I saw.

I’ve endured changes that made me lose parts of myself, parts of my life, made me struggle with how I looked, and even times where I almost lost myself.

But throughout my cancer story, these changes changed the way I see myself today. I remember my response to my doctor when he said I was going to look a little different without my right eye - “Aren’t we all a little different?”. That we’re all a little different, and that’s what makes us and our stories beautiful. When I lost my hair, I felt defeated, but I chose to take something so hard and turn it into something that reminded me of who I am in my battle. So that same day, I made my very first Mel’s Ribbon bandana.

A month after losing my hair, I put on my bandana. It reminds me of who I am in my battle and to love every me - to look in the mirror and love the person I see today.

I continue to face cancer. I know I will continue to fight and live like how I did when I was 11 - living to the fullest and funnest. As I continue to fight my cancer, I do not only for myself, but for those who are fighting and those who have fought.

Since being diagnosed with cancer at 11, I’ve always wanted to share my story for good. I created Mel’s Ribbon to use my story for good - to remind you who you are in your battle and to