Navigating the Unseen Battle of Mental Health in Cervical Cancer

By Morgan Newman, MSW, Community Engagement Liaison

As the Community Engagement Liaison for Cervivor, Inc., I’ve had the privilege of supporting many individuals through their cervical cancer journeys. While treatment and physical recovery often take center stage, it’s crucial to recognize the profound mental, emotional, and psychological impact of cervical cancer, which can be overwhelming, isolating, and frightening.

Janice Le-Nguyen

At Cervivor—founded 20 years ago to support those affected by the disease—we don’t shy away from facing these challenges head-on. Many in our community say that the been-there-done-that understanding and solidarity they find here play a vital role in their healing.

Janice Le-Nguyen, a Cervivor celebrating four years of being NED (no evidence of disease) after Stage 1A2 cervical cancer, shares: “I am appreciative of finding the Cervivor community and finding pathways to not feel ashamed and that I can freely discuss HPV, the cervix, and all the ‘fun’ I went through.”

I felt the same way after surviving Stage III at 24. Getting involved with Cervivor and advocating for fellow survivors helped me reclaim my voice and purpose.

But the cervical cancer journey is complex. Emotional highs and lows are part of the experience. Here are some of the most frequent mental health concerns our community members face—and why it’s so important we talk about them openly, without judgment or fear.

Survivor’s Guilt

Feeling grateful to be alive while struggling with the aftermath of treatment can bring on guilt and self-doubt, especially when others faced tougher outcomes or didn’t survive. On average, about 10 women from our immediate Cervivor community die each year—and it never gets easier to say goodbye.

Cervivor’s “In Memoriam” graphic is a solemn tribute to many of the lives lost since the organization’s start.

These losses weigh heavily, but they keep us grounded in our mission to eradicate the disease. Rather than staying stuck in cycles of guilt, many of us find healing through action. 

That’s been true for Janice. “Through Cervivor, I realized that by sharing my story, I could inspire others to get screened, ask questions, and take charge of their health,” says the quiet but fierce advocate, who started local community outreach with Cervivor a few years back.

We encourage all survivors to share their Cervivor Stories when they feel ready—each one adds powerful momentum to our mission and gives hope to others. If you’d like to share your experience, consider filling out this questionnaire and submitting a photo.

Scanxiety and Fear of Recurrence

Scanxiety—a term widely used in the cancer community—describes the intense anxiety and fear that can build up around follow-up scans and tests.

Me during my metastatic recurrence.

As a metastatic/recurrent survivor, I know this feeling all too well. Nine years ago, I was given just a 7–9% chance of ever being cancer-free—and yet, here I am. Still, every new ache, pain, or side effect can feel like a potential sign of recurrence.

A supportive community makes a difference. In our Cervivor Facebook group, for example, many members openly share their experiences with scanxiety and offer practical ways they’ve learned to cope. Just knowing you’re not the only one feeling this way can bring relief. And as always, consult your health provider if symptoms arise.

Body-Related and Intimacy Issues

Changes to the body can deeply affect self-esteem and relationships. Radiation side effects, like needing a cane or wheelchair, can be life-altering. Invisible disabilities like lymphedema, ostomies, and hearing loss require constant management.

Survivors in our community, including Lead Cervivor Ambassador Carol Lacey and others like Lorie Wallace, Sara Johney, Gabrielle McCord, Mary Clarkson-Grubb, Sally Kwenda, Maria Franklin, Julie Groob, Karla Chavez, and Talitha Stempin, navigate these challenges with strength and grace. Tools like lymphatic compression gear, ostomy bags, and hearing aids become part of daily life and symbols of resilience.

These survivors’ courageous approach to life after cancer, despite visible and invisible disabilities, shows the strength and resilience within our community. Clockwise from top left: Carol, Lorie, Gabrielle, Karla, Mary, Talitha, Julie, Sara, Maria, and Sally.

Body changes can also affect physical and emotional intimacy. Survivors have bravely opened up about their experiences on the Cervivor Blog, and a recent CervivorTV video, hosted by Founder and Chief Visionary Tamika Felder and featuring Dr. Christina Wilson, a board-certified women’s health nurse practitioner, dives into navigating body image and sexual health. It’s a must-watch.

Depression

The trauma of a cancer diagnosis and treatment can trigger depression—a reality that affects up to 25% of cancer patients, according to the National Cancer Institute (NCI). Yet, only a fraction receive the mental health support they need. Left unaddressed, depression can slow recovery, weaken the immune system, and negatively impact survival.

Kyana Johnson

Cervivor community member Kyana Johnson, diagnosed with Stage IIIB cervical cancer at 26, has shared her mental health struggles on the blog. She found comfort in self-care practices like journaling, meditation, coloring, and listening to music. Seeing a therapist at least twice a week was especially transformative.

“It was some of the best conversations I’ve ever had,” recalled Kyana, now seven years in remission. “My therapist helped me make sense of a lot of my emotions.”

And she offers this encouragement to others: “Remember that you are worth it. You shouldn’t be ashamed to seek mental health advice when your anxiety or stress feels too heavy.”

I’m also inspired by survivors like Danielle Glick and Jessica Martin, who have become psychotherapists since their cervical cancer experience. Their journeys show how healing mental and emotional health can lead to purpose, helping others find strength during the most difficult times.

You Are Never Alone

Because cervical cancer’s link to HPV can carry stigma, many feel isolated. But within Cervivor, we work to break that silence. We notice when someone goes quiet, we reach out, and we hold space for each other—without pressure to always “be okay.”

Ultimately, connection is essential to mental health recovery. Healing requires both safety and vulnerability. By naming and normalizing our struggles, we build resilience—and a supportive community that truly sees us. As Kyana put it, joining support groups like Cervivor helped her mental well-being because “they got it.”

Our mantra is simple: You are never alone. Whether through private groups, monthly support meetups, or personal check-ins, there is always a place for you here.

Ready to build meaningful relationships and support others in their cancer journeys? Join our monthly Creating Connections virtual meetup, designed for cancer patients, survivors, and thrivers. This supportive community is a safe space to share experiences, find resources, and connect with others who understand. Register for our next virtual meetup today.

About Morgan Newman, MSW

A resilient young adult (AYA) cervical cancer survivor, social worker, and dedicated patient advocate, Morgan has transformed her experience into a powerful force for change. After overcoming metastatic and recurrent cervical cancer at 24, she became a Cervivor Ambassador in 2017 and has since led global advocacy efforts. Her leadership roles include Community Engagement Liaison at Cervivor, board member for Above and Beyond Cancer and the Iowa Cancer Consortium, and Iowa State Lead Ambassador for the American Cancer Society Cancer Action Network (ACS CAN). She also serves on the Iowa Immunizes Coalition and as a patient advocate for the NIH’s Enduring Guidelines and Extended Genotyping Panels, and the NCI’s Patient Advocacy Steering Committee and Cervical Task Force. Morgan’s work has earned her awards and recognition, solidifying her as a leading voice in the fight against cancer.

Walk a Mile in My Shoes

To me this is a no-brainer: when a person has a chronic medical condition that they manage every single day, it does NOT mean they are supposed to stay in bed for the rest of their lives. At the same time, it also doesn’t mean they should extend themselves to the point that they are just making their condition worse by pushing thru pain to be “tough” or “brave.”  Some conditions will get progressively worse if you don’t adjust your lifestyle and take preventative measures.

I speak from experience. I have lymphedema in both of my lower extremities. Most recently, I have been battling what we think is neuropathy. The latter is much more painful to me than the lymphedema, but I’m not even sure what is what when it comes to the pain. All I know is that it hurts terribly.

I enjoy walking. That is one of my favorite stress relievers and a way that I stay physically fit. Gaining weight is very bad for my lymphedema so I try to stay moving, even if they are short now because of pain. Still, I do many things to keep myself smiling and positive because if you don’t have your mental health at the end of the day, what do you have?

Anyone that battles lymphedema or neuropathy knows it is a constant balance between sitting and standing. When I’m having a “bad day” my medical paperwork says I’m supposed to only work for four hours a day, three days a week. If I’m having a “really bad flare up,” I am supposed to keep my legs elevated all day. We all know that’s not feasible when you are trying to work every day and show up for your employer. It’s very stressful constantly trying to play catch-up and run out the door for another doctor’s appointment.

Someone made a comment to me the other day that really hurt my feelings (I cried). In short, they questioned how I could be out and about and yet still be so “sick.”  I have since processed it, and I realize that anyone that questions my pause from teaching does not know my struggles or my story. They do not know medically what is going on with me. For them to assume that I am “supposed to” stay in bed and not go on a walk or do anything fun, well that would also be detrimental to my mental health.

They are not in my shoes. They probably couldn’t even find my shoes on the shelf. If they could, they would know this:

I am constantly worried that I might have an accident because that’s what now happens sometimes because of the radiation to my bowels. It is very common among women like me who have withstood grueling treatments for cervical cancer. It’s a nasty side effect. God Bless Imodium!  Fellow Cervivors and I jokingly say that we need our own diaper bags. We can laugh about things such as bodily functions, but it doesn’t mean it’s fun or funny. It never goes away. We are just lucky to have a sense of humor about it because at the end of the day, what else can we do?

When you ask me to go boating or out to dinner, I worry that I will ruin the fun because my feet/legs will hurt and I won’t be able to even focus on the conversations around me. The pain can make me nauseous and I feel like I want to throw up. Sometimes my eyes will randomly tear up just because I’m so tired of the gig. But the gig is my life so I can’t take a vacation from myself.

When I’m trying to get to work on time, I may seem frazzled when I arrive, It’s not because I’m not trying my best. Some mornings the thought of standing hurts before I even get out of bed because I know what it’s going to feel like when I do. Sometimes I’m changing my clothes at the last minute because I had an accident as I was walking out the door. Such fun! At any random time that you are with me, I’m probably fantasizing about taking a hot bath. There’s something about chronic pain, stress, and physical exhaustion. Bad recipe.

Before you judge me (or anyone!) and try to critique me based on your idea of what a “sick person” does with their lives, try to put yourself in my shoes. You truly don’t know, unless you have lived it. Take a walk with me and let’s see what happens!  Remember, you don’t know my reality until you have actually walked a mile or two with me or next to me. This post isn’t just for my own situation, but it’s for all of us cervical cancer survivors and those with chronic pain or chronic illness who have dealt with the judgement of others.

I’m posting about this, because I’m trying to create awareness and empathy. People are beating cancer much more than they did decades ago. Yet with surviving comes long-term side effects that sometimes become progressively worse with time. Our bodies know the score. When discussing taking a break from work, a coworker said to me, “your body already made the decision for you.” She’s right. It did. And I had to take something off my plate so I could feel better physically/emotionally. I’m taking a knee right now for myself. And no, I will not be staying home in bed in a dark hole every moment of my life. I will keep on living and enjoying this life that I have fought so hard to enjoy. I am a real person and this is my life. Thank you if you are someone that understands. I love you. If you are part of my amazing tribe and you don’t feel you understand, please just ask in a supportive and loving way.

Shawna Christy, 46, was diagnosed with cervical cancer in 2005. Treatment included removal of her cervix, uterus, 1/3 of her vagina and more. Though surgery and radiation helped her beat cancer, “the hard parts came later” – like chronic pain together with PTSD and the emotional, hormonal and spiritual challenges of being a cancer survivor. Shawna plugged into Cervivor for community and support. In 2016 she attended Cervivor School and became a Cervivor Ambassador who uses her voice and her experiences to open conversations and “change the narrative.” She lives in Ottumwa, is a proud mother of daughter (Korynn, 18) and son (Kyler, 16). She is grateful for time with her besties and husband, Allen. This year she is taking time off from teaching first grade to focus on her health to better manage her pain.

Read Shawna’s Cervivor Story or her previous blog “Cerviving with Lymphedema

See other Cervivor blog posts about lymphedema: “My Under Armor: Do you know about lymphedema?” by Heather Banks