In Between Moments

By Jacqueline Beatty 

In May 2025, at the age of 40, everything changed for me. I was diagnosed with breast cancer. My journey through cancer lasted 10 months, three surgeries, chemotherapy, and now 5 to 10 years on an estrogen blocker that has put me into early menopause. 

Immediately, a fleeting thought crossed my mind, wait… this can’t be it. I haven’t lived yet. I remember that moment so clearly. On paper, and to the outside world, I had it all. I was a mother to two amazing girls, ages 5 and 11 at the time, and a stepmother to my 18-year-old son. I was a wife, building an executive career in HR, making time for my passions, such as teaching Yoga and Pilates, and maintaining a full social circle. But underneath it all, I was surviving instead of truly living, trying to keep up, not fully present in my life. 

I remember thinking, how could I believe I hadn’t lived? I was a mother, a wife, and we had built a full life. I had a career I worked so hard for. But when I looked deeper, I realized I had been living in fear. Fear of taking chances for fear of disrupting the life I had carefully built. Fear of taking risks at work that might threaten my career. Fear of doing things outside my family in case something happened to me, or I missed time with my kids. I thought I was taking care of myself, making time for workouts around my family and work schedule, but I was running on empty, constantly moving, never still. Never aware of what was growing inside me. Cancer, but also a loss of who I was. 

After that realization, I began asking myself, what brings me joy. It took time to remember what that was, beyond being a mother and exercising to stay healthy. 

Early in my diagnosis, I made a decision. I was going to fight with everything I had, but I was also going to live with intention. Even on the hard days. Even in the moments when I couldn’t do what I wanted because I needed rest and recovery. 

I began calling these the In Between Moments and they mattered more than anything. 

For years, I had loved paddleboarding, but I only made time for it one week a year at our family cottage. During my treatment, a group of friends decided to go paddleboarding weekly. It sounded amazing, but due to back-to-back surgeries, I couldn’t join most of the time. Still, I decided this was an In Between Moment. I would go anyway, watching from the shoreline. But my dear friend Laura had a better idea. She borrowed a kayak from her neighbour and paddled me around the lake so I could be on the water with everyone else. I could have surrendered to what I couldn’t do. Instead, I chose to make the most of what I could and to be surrounded by people who loved me. 

As I moved deeper into my journey through cancer, there were so many moments where I was told this should be the last procedure, the last surgery, only to discover another diagnosis. Still, I stayed true to myself, continuing to find these In Between Moments. When I learned I needed chemotherapy, it was incredibly difficult, not just for me, but for my daughters. I could no longer hide that I was sick. I would visibly change. I would lose my hair. There would be days I couldn’t get out of bed. A friend who is a hairdresser offered to cut my hair before treatment began, so I could take back some control of the narrative. It felt empowering. I could transition gradually from my long hair, making it easier for both my girls and me. So, I invited two close friends, and we went to a beautiful loft used as a photo studio. We played empowering music, and the haircut began. I expected it to be emotional, but surrounded by love, we laughed, we joked, and I fell in love with my new pixie cut. 

Another In Between Moment. Finding light in the darkness. 

Not long after, my hair began to fall out. My husband offered to shave it for me. This moment was harder, but my girls wanted to be part of it. They each took turns shaving a bit, and we kept some as a memory. 

Along my treatment, I continued to coach and be coached. I also continued teaching Yoga and Pilates. It became a vital part of my healing. But as chemotherapy began, I knew I needed to step back. I wouldn’t have the energy, and I needed to focus on recovery and protecting my immune system. This could have been another moment of defeat, but instead, it became another In Between Moment. My friends rallied around me. We held a beautiful yoga session on the beach. I was sent off with love, prayers, and intention. Candles were distributed to my yoga community and lit at the time of my first chemotherapy treatment. I cannot describe how deeply I felt held and supported. 

There were so many In Between Moments during chemotherapy, walks on the days I could manage them, the occasional gym class, a day at the spa, playing with my girls, tea with friends, visits, flowers, and heartfelt messages. 

A few weeks after finishing chemotherapy, I decided to hold a fundraiser. Alongside a few fellow teachers, we hosted a Yoga, Pilates, and Dance class. I was so humbled by how many people showed up, with my husband and daughter volunteering to support. Together, we raised just over $1,000 dollars, which we donated to CNIB. It was another moment where I took a very difficult experience and transformed it into hope for others. 

After treatment, I chose to undergo a double mastectomy with reconstruction. This decision was shaped by my genetics, my diagnosis, and my mental and emotional well-being. One day, while sharing my story with a woman at my physiotherapy clinic, she told me about a friend who had done the same, and before her surgery, she had one last night out. A night out with her boobs. I thought, okay, this is a moment. So, a few days before surgery, my friends and I went out dancing. We celebrated. We laughed. We marked the transition. Another In Between Moment. 

In March 2026, I was told I am cancer-free. I am beyond grateful not only to be on the other side of this journey, but also for everything it taught me and for the people who held me through it. Early on, I chose to be vulnerable and share my story. Through those conversations, I found support, connection, and so many meaningful In Between Moments. 

If you ever find yourself on a journey like this, I hope you can find those moments too, and be surrounded by a community that lifts you on the hardest days. 

I made many promises to myself during this journey, and I intend to keep them. 

To live with intention. 

To live with purpose.  

To find joy every day. 

And to always notice the In Between Moments, because that’s where the deepest growth lives.