cancer

Hi, I’m Sara.

It is with great honor – and perhaps a little too much enthusiasm – that I introduce myself as the new Communications Director for Cervivor, Inc. [Insert air horn sound effect!]

Like all Cervivors, my journey here is deeply personal. I lost one of my best friends from high school to cervical cancer when she was just 28 years old, while we were both living in New York City. Over the seven months following her late-stage cancer diagnosis, I watched her die before my eyes, powerless to do anything but love and support her – and eventually share her story with the world (more on that in a bit).

Heather, Mindy, and Sara Lyle-Ingersoll stand together at their senior prom in the 1990s. Sara, on the right, is wearing a black gown with a large white bow on the shoulder. Mindy is in the center wearing a black dress with gold accents, and Heather is on the left in a blue dress. They pose in front of a backdrop featuring a crescent moon, stars, and decorative columns.
Heather (in blue), our friend Mindy, and I were so totally ’90s at our senior prom.
Heather Martin, who later passed away from cervical cancer in her twenties, shares a joyful moment with her best friend Sara Lyle-Ingersoll, now Communications Director for Cervivor, Inc. In this candid photo from their senior year graduation event, Heather, wearing a white t-shirt and denim shorts, laughs with Sara, who is playfully leaning on her shoulder, dressed in a sleeveless striped shirt and shorts. They are surrounded by other attendees in a festive atmosphere.
Heather (on left) was a bright light.

This heartbreaking experience, and the fire it ignited in me to spread the word about how preventable cervical cancer is, and how senseless it is for women of any age to die from it, is just one of many reasons I am thrilled to be working with the Cervivor community and its fearless leader, Founder and Chief Visionary Tamika Felder.

But let me take you back to when I first met Tamika. It was 2006, and I was a senior editor at Jane Magazine, interviewing her for a feature story (more on that in a bit, too). Even then, she was a rising force in cervical cancer advocacy, speaking at major events and addressing Congress. Her new nonprofit, then called Tamika & Friends, Inc., was organizing its first fundraising walk for cervical cancer awareness in Washington, D.C., that May.

Sara Lyle-Ingersoll, wearing an "I Hate Tumors" shirt, stands with a man and Tamika Felder at a cervical cancer awareness event in 2009. Sara is smiling and holding up her wrist, showcasing a yellow bracelet, while Tamika, dressed in a red cardigan, stands on the right, also smiling.
Tamika traveled from D.C. to New York for a cervical cancer awareness event we organized in Heather’s memory in 2009. Tamika hosted an HPV-themed trivia game and brought her general sense of positivity and purpose.

Although we hadn’t met before our phone conversation – she was in Maryland; I was in New York – we shared the same mission: to ensure that no one else would suffer or die from cervical cancer or be kept silent because of its stigma. Even though Heather was already gone by then, I knew she and Tamika would have been fast friends. Their zest for life was infectious.

Turning Pain into Power

After Heather told me about her diagnosis – over beers at a Manhattan bar, as you do in your twenties – I discussed with my editor at Jane that sharing Heather’s story might encourage other young women to get their Pap tests more regularly, since Heather’s late diagnosis was partly due to missed screenings. Like too many people, she was working multiple jobs but didn’t have health insurance.

There was also encouraging talk of a soon-to-be-FDA-approved HPV vaccine, which made the potential article especially timely. Additionally, while the first HPV test was introduced in the early 2000s, it still wasn’t widely used or covered by insurance. To my mind, this made it crucial to educate Jane’s mostly twenty- and thirty-something readers about these powerful tools for cervical cancer prevention. I just didn’t realize that Heather’s story would end the way it did when I started it.

Heather passed away in December 2005, six months before the first HPV vaccine was approved. Now, I watch HPV vaccine commercials on TV with my 9-year-old son, who asks questions about what it is and who it’s for. I tell him about Heather, Tamika, and how the vaccine can prevent cervical cancer. It’s amazing how far this movement has come!

Sara Lyle-Ingersoll smiles brightly as she poses with her 9-year-old son, Loch, outdoors in Denver during the winter. They are bundled up in winter jackets, with Sara wearing a purple puffer coat and Loch in a red and black jacket. The sky is clear and blue, and the mountains are visible in the background.
My youngest is the age at which the HPV vaccine is first recommended.

Becoming an Unintentional Advocate

When Heather’s story, “I Hate Tumors,” was eventually published in Jane in March 2006, it struck a nerve. Reader mail poured in; our online message boards were active. The article was syndicated in the UK edition of Glamour and shared widely. One woman wrote, “That article saved my life! After I read it, I made an appointment with my gyno and found out that I had HPV and two precancerous lesions on my cervix. I’m fine now, but what if I had waited?” The feature went on to win a Front Page Award for Science, Medicine, and Health from the Newswomen’s Club of New York, which was gratifying, even though I wish I’d never had to write it in the first place.

While I didn’t consider myself an advocate back then, I seized the moment to speak about the need for cervical cancer awareness on as many TV and radio shows and in as many publications and places as possible. When I interviewed Tamika for the aforementioned feature story, “I Still Hate Tumors,” a follow-up article that came out in Jane in March 2007, she said she had seen a segment that Heather’s little sister and I did on The Tyra Banks Show. She told me it impressed her “to see people talking about cervical cancer correctly.”

Two-page magazine spread from Jane Magazine featuring an article titled "I Hate Tumors," written by Sara Lyle about her friend Heather Lyn Martin's battle with cervical cancer. The left page has text, while the right page includes a photo of Heather (right) and Sara as college freshmen.
This is the opening spread of the article I wrote in Jane Magazine in 2006 about my friend Heather’s battle with cervical cancer. I made her a T-shirt that said “I hate tumors” while she was in the hospital, inspiring the story’s title. The photo on the right-hand page is of Heather and me during our college years in Florida.
The first spread of a follow-up story in Jane magazine. On the right page, a collage of photos includes Heather in the top left, wearing her 'I Hate Tumors' shirt. Below her, Heather's sister Donna displays a fresh tattoo featuring one of Heather's favorite quotes. Tamika is also pictured at a Livestrong event.
This is the first spread of the follow-up story, “I Still Hate Tumors,” published in Jane a year later. On the right page, Heather is in the top left, wearing her “I hate tumors” shirt. That’s Tamika in yellow at a Livestrong event before we first spoke.

In 2008, I shared Heather’s story with hundreds of attendees at the Global Summit of Women in Beijing, which was nerve-wracking but empowering. (Tamika helped me prepare for the speech!) Over time, I participated in several of her organization’s walks in D.C. and New York. Tamika invited me to attend the very first Cervivor School in New York in 2014, where I earned an honorary certificate since I’m not a cervical cancer survivor. (Hats off to all of the Cervivor School graduates who have come up since then!)

Tamika Felder stands with the first group of Cervivor School graduates, including Sara Lyle-Ingersoll, an honorary student whose best friend died from cervical cancer. The group is gathered in New York City for the inaugural Cervivor School in 2014.
A diverse group of individuals, all attendees of the 2024 Cervivor School, pose for a group photo in a well-lit room decorated with teal and white balloons. The group consists of women wearing Cervivor-themed shirts, casual and professional attire, with a warm, supportive atmosphere. Some attendees are seated while others stand behind them.
I had the honor of attending both the first Cervivor School a decade ago (top photo) as well as the most recent one in Minneapolis.

She even used my Brooklyn apartment as a staging area for the first series of CervivorTV episodes, featuring different people impacted by cervical cancer, including me (that’s the video below). Since then, Tamika and I have stayed in touch through marriages, my living abroad, and both becoming mothers. I have always been cheering for her – and the Cervivor mission and community – from the sidelines.

What I Hope to Bring to Cervivor

Now, after all the growth and impact the organization has achieved, coming back into the Cervivor world as its Communications Director feels less like a job and more like a calling.

A little about my professional background: After Jane, I held leadership roles at magazines you may have heard of like Woman’s Day and Good Housekeeping. I also lived in Asia for seven years, where I was the Editor-in-Chief of The Finder, a popular publication for foreigners living in Singapore. (Tamika even wrote a story for The Finder during Cervical Cancer Awareness Month one year!) For the past year-plus, I’ve worked independently, contributing to niche publications and global media outlets and, yes, collaborating with Tamika behind the scenes.

My goal at Cervivor? To continue to infuse heart and mind into all our communications, delivering a message of hope and solidarity that reflects Cervivor’s commitment to the ultimate mission: to #EndCervicalCancer. I aim to help us achieve the ambitious goals set by Tamika and the organization’s leadership, powered by the dedication of our Cervivor Ambassadors, community members, and supporters.

A photo of Sara Lyle-Ingersoll outdoors with sunglasses on, smiling, and wearing a Pap Rally & Run T-shirt. She attended the event in New York City in 2014.
Me at a Pap Rally & Run in New York in 2014, the last one I attended before moving abroad.
Sara Lyle-Ingersoll, now Cervivor's Communications Director, at one of the non-profit’s early awareness and fundraising events in Washington, D.C., sharing Heather’s story with a powerful message on her T-shirt.
Tamika invited me to an early Pap Rally & Run, where I shared Heather’s story and wore our T-shirt.

Heather’s legacy – and that of other women who didn’t make it – lives on in our work. Together, we will continue fighting for a future where no woman has to lose the battle to cervical cancer.

A collage of names of women who have died from cervical cancer, accompanied by the hashtag #EndCervicalCancer.
Heather and I didn’t know Tamika when she was starting Cervivor, and Heather passed away before they could meet. Too many continue to be lost and every loss hurts.

Thank you for welcoming me back to the Cervivor family. I look forward to working alongside each of you as we advocate, educate, and empower.

Let’s kick this cancer’s ass!

P.S. If you want to connect with me on LinkedIn or contact me directly at [email protected], I would love that. 

With gratitude,


Sara Lyle-Ingersoll
Cervivor, Inc.
Communications Director
Read My Story Here

October: A Time of Reflection, Resilience, and Roaring Against Cancer

Here in Indiana, October marks a turning point. The green of summer gives way to a stunning tapestry of gold, yellow, and orange. The mornings and evenings greet us with a chill in the air, hinting at the winter to come. For many, it’s simply a season of transition. But for me, October carries much deeper significance.

This month is an anniversary—one that marks battles I never expected to fight. It was in October, 10 years ago, that I was diagnosed with cervical cancer. Then, just two years later, in the same month, I heard those dreaded words again: breast cancer. So, for me, October is a time of scanxiety—anxiety over upcoming tests, mixed with moments of reflection that can sometimes feel like reliving trauma. But it’s also a time of gratitude, because I’m still here, standing strong.

October is also the month when pink ribbons seem to bloom everywhere, spreading messages of hope for breast cancer warriors, survivors, and thrivers. And while I appreciate the awareness, I’m tired—tired of cancer’s relentless presence in my life. It wasn’t just my diagnosis. My mother was diagnosed with breast cancer. Then my aunt. Then me. My cousin. And now, just recently, my sister. It’s as if cancer has drawn a line through generations of my family, and the next in line could be my daughter.

My beautiful family including my sister and her family plus our parents.

The only silver lining? We’re catching it earlier. My mother and aunt were diagnosed with stage 3, while my cousin, sister, and I were caught at stage 0 or stage 1. Early detection saves lives, but that doesn’t lessen the emotional toll.

Here’s the reality: 1 in 8 women reading this will face breast cancer in their lifetime. Think about that. According to Komen.org, the two most common risk factors are simply being born female and getting older. It’s staggering, and it’s unacceptable. Breast cancer and cervical cancer share more in common than we often acknowledge, and both must be stopped.

When I got my breast cancer diagnosis, I was in shock. I had just finished treatment for stage 3B cervical cancer. I couldn’t comprehend how cancer had returned, but there it was—another battle, another round of surgery, chemotherapy, and radiation. And now, watching my sister go through it? I refuse to let my daughter face the same fate without a fight.

So yes, I’m wearing my pink this October. I’m mad as hell, and I’m making sure legislators, researchers, and anyone who will listen hears my voice. Come January, I’ll be wearing teal and white, advocating just as fiercely for cervical cancer awareness.

Mom hugging her sister, Beverly who lost her 10 year journey with breast cancer in 2018.
Me standing strong and advocating for cancer policy.

We cannot stop talking about breast and cervical cancer. We must continue fighting for better treatments, vaccines, healthcare equality, and cures. We are the warriors, the survivors, and the thrivers. And in the words of Helen Reddy: “I am woman, hear me roar!”

Laura Lemons (she/her/hers) is a 2019 alumni of Cervivor School and a Cervivor Ambassador. She is a volunteer for the American Cancer Society Cancer Action Network (ACS CAN) for the state of Indiana and was an advocate for the Lymphedema Treatment Act (LTA) which passed in 2023. Her journey as an advocate for equitable healthcare began after witnessing disparities while receiving treatments for cervical and breast cancer. Laura is particularly passionate about addressing the stigma surrounding gynecological cancers. A proud central Indiana native, Laura lives with her husband, Jim, and their dogs, Bella and Sylvie. She is also a mother to two adult daughters, Allison and Melissa.