Ulman Foundation

Pride and Survivorship: LGBTQ+ Voices in Cancer Care and the Power of Community 

By Cervivor Communications Assistant Kyle Minnis

Every June, Pride Month celebrates the resilience, diversity, and strength of LGBTQ+ communities while shining a light on the work that remains to achieve true equity and inclusion.

June is also National Cancer Survivorship Month, a time to honor survivors, caregivers, advocates, and loved ones whose lives have been shaped by cancer.

For LGBTQ+ individuals, the cancer experience can come with unique challenges, including:

  • Healthcare disparities, such as discrimination, financial barriers, and fear of being misunderstood, judged, or misgendered.
  • Finding safe and affirming care, where patients feel respected, supported, and able to be themselves.
  • Misinformation and lack of representation, which can create barriers to screening, diagnosis, treatment, and survivorship.

These barriers can have real consequences, contributing to missed screenings, delayed care, and poorer healthcare experiences. 

“At Cervivor, we believe every person affected by cancer deserves to be seen, heard, and affirmed exactly as they are, all year long,” says Tamika Felder, Cervivor Founder and Chief Visionary. “No one should have to choose between protecting their health and protecting their dignity.”

This Pride Month and National Cancer Survivorship Month, we’re sharing stories from LGBTQ+ cancer survivors and advocates whose experiences highlight the power of visibility, inclusive care, and community. 

LGBTQ+ Voices Across the Cancer Journey

One of the most powerful ways we can create change is by sharing our experiences. When LGBTQ+ cancer survivors and caregivers tell their stories, they help break down misconceptions, reduce stigma, and remind others that they are not alone.

Lea’s Story: When Care Includes Everyone

Lea Boone

For Lea Boone, a cervical cancer survivor and member of our Cervivor Pride community, one of the most important sources of strength throughout her cancer journey was the unwavering support of the people around her.

Family and friends rallied around her in meaningful ways, creating opportunities for connection and normalcy during a difficult time. “They planned weekly dinners, prayer sessions, game nights,” recalls Lea. “All of these gave me strength and encouragement.”

Her loved ones also helped her navigate the complexities of treatment by staying engaged in her care. They encouraged her to record medical appointments so they could listen, ask questions, and help her process information that might otherwise have been overwhelming.

Lea considers herself fortunate to have received care from providers who treated her and her partner with respect and inclusion. “Just because I am part of the LGBTQ+ community did not make me ‘different,'” she says. She appreciated that her healthcare team included her partner in conversations about recovery, aftercare, intimacy, and the physical and emotional changes that can follow treatment, recognizing the important role partners play in a patient’s healing and well-being. 

Her experience also highlights an often-overlooked aspect of cancer care: the needs of caregivers and family members. “Cancer affects everyone… the patient and the family,” she explains. She believes healthcare systems should do more to support the people who stand beside patients throughout treatment, recovery, and survivorship, as they often carry their own fears, questions, and emotional burdens along the way.

LaTasha’s Story: Creating Safer Spaces for Care

LaTasha Fisher

For LaTasha Fisher, an AYA Community & Remote Patient Navigator at the Ulman Foundation, creating spaces where people feel seen, supported, and safe is both a professional and personal mission.

As a queer woman working closely with young adults navigating cancer care, LaTasha understands the unique barriers LGBTQIA+ individuals can face when it comes to cervical cancer screening and treatment. She notes that transgender men are less likely to receive routine screenings due to concerns ranging from gender dysphoria to fear of discrimination.

“Healthcare spaces can feel isolating for LGBTQIA+ patients, and sometimes seeing someone who signals support and advocacy can make a difficult experience feel a little less overwhelming,” she says.

LaTasha believes affirming care starts with creating an environment where patients feel respected and understood. She encourages providers to use inclusive intake forms, respect chosen names and pronouns, and communicate clearly about procedures and care decisions.

“A few ways that healthcare professionals can show up better for this community are to make sure forms include space for chosen names and pronouns, ensure those preferences are updated across all systems, and train staff on the importance of using them correctly,” she explains.

For LaTasha, building trust and visibility within healthcare settings is everyone’s responsibility. “Everyone should be doing their part, and my hope is that in doing so, you will inspire others to do the same.”

Craig’s Story: Trust, Visibility, and Better Outcomes

Craig Lustig

For Craig Lustig, a long-term brain cancer survivor, advocate, and host of the podcast Cancer Rebranded, cancer has always been just one part of a much larger story. “Just because you have cancer doesn’t mean that you are cancer,” he says. 

Diagnosed with a rare brain tumor at age 27, Craig learned firsthand how difficult it can be when important parts of a person’s identity go unrecognized during cancer treatment. As a gay man undergoing treatment in the early 1990s, much of his care took place in pediatric oncology, where he was surrounded by children and teens and found few opportunities to discuss his experiences as a young adult or a member of the LGBTQ+ community. 

“This was a time when HIV/AIDS was a huge concern for gay men and the broader gay community,” Craig recalls. “While I wouldn’t say I experienced homophobia in a direct way, I felt uncomfortable in that environment when it came to my sexuality and being open about who I was. It was the right place for me to be treated, but it was very isolating.”  

That experience shaped his belief that trust is essential in cancer care, particularly for LGBTQ+ cancer survivors and patients. “When you have a life-threatening disease like cancer, being comfortable with your healthcare provider and able to be fully candid leads to better outcomes,” he says.

Craig recommends greater understanding among providers. “We need ongoing communication and education between the cancer care community and LGBTQ+ patients to build trust and ensure that queer cancer patients receive the same high-quality care — free from bias or judgment — that every patient deserves.”

Laura’s Story: Love, Advocacy, and Being Seen

Dr. Laura Porter in front of the Golden Gate Bridge

For Dr. Laura D. Porter, MD, FASCO, a Stage IV colon cancer survivor and Medical Affairs Consultant, survivorship and advocacy have been deeply intertwined since her own diagnosis.

Diagnosed with metastatic colon cancer in 2003 while completing her pediatric residency, her life and medical training were abruptly interrupted. After two recurrences, she became cancer-free in 2006 — a turning point that led her to patient advocacy and oncology research support work.

Looking back, Dr. Porter credits her chosen family and broader support network with helping her through treatment.

“I had an incredible support system… I was never alone the first year after my diagnosis,” she shares. “My family, including my extended family and friends from medical school, residency and from a 12-step program, all showed up to ease the burden of the diagnosis and treatments. I felt so loved and supported.”

As a member of the LGBTQ+ community, she also faced additional barriers while navigating cancer care with her partner at the time, now wife. “One of the most difficult parts of the journey was all the paperwork that was required for Bonnie to be considered my next of kin,” she recalls. “At times it was a burden, trying to explain why she should be able to stay and making sure all the correct paperwork was done.”

Her personal and professional experiences have deepened her commitment to ensuring patients feel seen, supported, and empowered throughout their care. “I have been very vocal and active in sharing my story, and my medical training and experience helped me support others going through the same process,” she says. “I have always been OUT and about, but when we were able to get married it legitimized our relationship.”

Today, as her wife faces her own battle with metastatic lung cancer, Dr. Porter sees firsthand how legal recognition can shape the caregiving experience. “I am her wife, and I am her next of kin. I have to manage everything… and on the days that it is difficult, I can rest in the knowledge that I am her wife and no one can take that away.”

Dr. Porter (right) and wife, Bonnie (left)

Resources and Community for LGBTQ+ Cancer Survivors

The stories shared here reflect the diversity of LGBTQ+ experiences across the cancer continuum. While some individuals face barriers to screening, treatment, or affirming care, others, like Lea and Laura, demonstrate what is possible when healthcare providers recognize and respect the whole person — including their identity, relationships, and support systems.

Finding Community Through Cervivor

If you’re an LGBTQ+ cancer survivor, patient, caregiver, advocate, or loved one, know this: Your story matters. Your experiences are valid. Your voice deserves to be heard.

We invite you to join our private LGBTQ+ Facebook group (for more info, contact Cervivor Pride Lead Karen North), or apply to attend our upcoming Gynecologic Cancer Survivors Retreat & Advocacy Training powered by Cervivor School.

Looking for more stories, insights, and resources? Explore these Cervivor articles and discussions focused on LGBTQ+ experiences in cancer care and survivorship:

While Pride Month shines an important spotlight on LGBTQ+ experiences, the work of creating welcoming, affirming spaces for people affected by cancer continues year-round. Whether you’re a healthcare provider, caregiver, advocate, survivor, or ally, you can help by:

  • Listening to and amplifying LGBTQ+ survivor and caregiver voices.
  • Respecting and using a person’s chosen name and pronouns.
  • Avoiding assumptions about someone’s gender, sexual orientation, relationships, or healthcare needs.
  • Using inclusive, person-centered language.
  • Advocating for healthcare environments where everyone feels safe, respected, and welcome.
  • Learning about the unique challenges LGBTQ+ individuals face in cancer care and survivorship.

Together, we can continue building a community where everyone affected by cervical cancer feels seen, supported, and empowered.

Because cancer doesn’t discriminate. And neither should support.

About the Author

The image is a portrait of a young man with dark skin and short, curly black hair. He is wearing a blue collared shirt and black-framed glasses, and is smiling at the camera. The man has dark skin and short, curly black hair. His hair is cut close to his head, with a slight fade at the sides. His eyebrows are thick and well-groomed. He is wearing a blue collared shirt. The shirt is a medium blue color and appears to be made of a lightweight material. It has a relaxed fit and is buttoned up to the top. He is also wearing black-framed glasses. The frames are rectangular in shape and have a subtle curve at the temples. The lenses are clear and do not appear to have any tint or coating. The man is smiling at the camera. His smile is wide and genuine, showing off his white teeth. His eyes are crinkled at the corners, giving him a friendly and approachable appearance. The background of the image is a plain gray color. The gray is a medium tone, neither too light nor too dark. It provides a neutral backdrop that allows the subject to stand out. Overall, the image presents a friendly and approachable young man who appears to be confident and comfortable in front of the camera

Kyle Minnis is a recent graduate of Strategic Communications at the University of Kansas with a passion for digital media, storytelling, and audience engagement. He has experience in content strategy and media production. Kyle is especially interested in the intersection of media, branding, and digital growth.

Every Cervix Matters: LGBTQIA+ Voices in the Fight Against Cervical Cancer

For queer and trans people facing cervical cancer, the challenges go far beyond the diagnosis. They’re compounded by systemic bias, stigma, and a long history of being overlooked or mistreated in healthcare. These barriers are only growing amid ongoing threats to LGBTQIA+ health equity. (Learn more about these challenges—and the work to overcome them—in part two of our Pride Month series. Stay tuned for Monday).

As Dr. Scout, a trans man and Executive Director of the National LGBT Cancer Network, explains, “It’s getting more dangerous to be openly queer in this country right now.” For many, staying safe means staying silent, often at the cost of their health. 

That’s why this Pride Month, Cervivor is proud to uplift the voices of Karen North, Anjelica Butcher, Gilma Pereda, and Pixie Bruner—members of our community whose experiences reveal both the challenges and courage of queer cervical cancer survivors. Their stories remind us that behind every statistic is a person who deserves to be seen, heard, and cared for.

Challenging Assumptions: Karen’s Advocacy

Karen, a former nurse from Liberty, Missouri, lives with her longtime partner, who shares the same first name, Karen “Murph” Murphy. Their relationship grew gradually after Karen’s 10-year marriage ended in 2001—a union that brought her a son, Matthew, and helped her recognize her identity as a lesbian. But fear of judgment lingered. “When I was still dealing with custody issues,” she recalls, “I’d deny my relationship with Murph in public if I had to.”

Karen North

By the time she was diagnosed with breast cancer—and then cervical cancer 18 months later in January 2016—Karen had stopped worrying about court rulings or public opinion. Instead, she leaned on her medical background to stay focused on treatment, not judgment. “I didn’t care what anyone thought. If I felt judged, I’d call it out and find another provider,” she says, adding with a laugh, “I can be a KAREN, in all caps, if I need to be.”

Karen discovered Cervivor in 2017, but it was Cervivor School in 2019 that truly “lit a fire” in her. Today, she leads the Cervivor Pride group and is a vocal advocate for inclusive language. “One of my biggest pet peeves is when people assume everyone with a cervix identifies as a woman,” says Karen.

Conversations with her transgender friend Zeke—who navigates gynecological care as a male-identifying person—have shaped her approach. Karen now avoids euphemisms like “coochie cancer,” opting instead for medical terms or inclusive phrases like “below-the-belt cancer,” which more accurately encompass HPV-related cancers, including cervical, vaginal, vulvar, penile, and anal.

And she credits her Every Cervix Matters hoodie for sparking meaningful dialogue. “A woman came up to me at a restaurant and said, ‘That’s great. Every cervix does matter.’ I got goosebumps,” Karen recalls. “It doesn’t center gender—it centers anatomy and health.”

Transforming Trauma: Gilma’s Awakening

Cervivor Ambassador Gilma, a graphic designer in California, echoes Karen’s message: “It’s called the human papillomavirus—not the women’s papillomavirus,” she emphasizes. “It doesn’t matter your sexual orientation or your gender.” 

This perspective led her to vaccinate her then-12-year-old child—now a trans woman—shortly after her cervical cancer diagnosis in 2016. “At her annual checkup, the doctor mentioned the vaccine could prevent cervical cancer,” Gilma recalls. “I said, ‘I don’t care if it’s for girls or boys—whatever it is, my child needs it.’”

Gilma Pereda

Gilma’s cervical cancer journey unfolded alongside a profound personal awakening. Raised in a traditional Catholic household in 1970s Mexico, she followed expected norms—marrying and having a child—despite always feeling “different.” After divorcing at 36 and supporting her child through gender exploration, she began to reflect on her own identity. “Cervical cancer changes your sexual life—a lot. So I stopped worrying about that,” she says. “But it gave me the freedom to express my gender differently.”

A metastatic recurrence at 47, which led her to shave her head after a lifetime of long hair, marked a turning point. “I’ve seen so many women devastated by hair loss—hair carries so much of our identity,” she says. “But for me, I was so happy.” Soon after, she came out to her parents. “I was done trying to fit a mold. Now, I feel comfortable being androgynous.”

Gilma’s advocacy stems from a deeply traumatic experience. During a painful, anesthesia-free cryotherapy procedure to remove precancerous cervical cells, a doctor’s inappropriate touch triggered memories of childhood sexual abuse, causing her to delay treatment for a year. “By that time, it was cancer,” she states.

She credits Cervivor—and years of advocacy training and witnessing other survivors doing “very, very difficult things”—with helping her transform that pain into purpose. Gilma has since shared her story in Spanish-language publications and on a bilingual panel addressing sexual abuse in medical settings, an issue that disproportionately affects her community. “I don’t like the spotlight,” she confides. “But I’ll do it again and again to help prevent this from happening to others.”

Confronting Disparities: Anjelica’s Fight

Anjelica, a small business and nonprofit owner in Baltimore, faced her cervical cancer diagnosis already carrying the weight of multiple identities: Black, queer, caregiver—and often the only one like her in the room. “My cultural background gave me strength and resilience,” she says, “but it also came with silence around topics like sexuality and cancer.”

She quickly saw how deeply healthcare disparities run. “I thought I had great insurance—until I found out it didn’t qualify as catastrophic coverage,” she recalls. Denied care for over a month, she had to pay out-of-pocket to start treatment. “It broke my heart realizing the only reason I made it through was because I could afford to. What happens to the people who can’t?”

Anjelica Butcher

For Anjelica, who’s identified as queer since age 13, her cervical cancer diagnosis also brought a realization that “hit hard.” “I was never offered the HPV vaccine—likely because of assumptions about my sexuality,” she shares, referencing persistent stigma and misinformation that overlook how HPV is transmitted: through intimate skin-to-skin contact, not just penetrative sex.

While most of her care team was respectful, certain invasive treatments—like internal radiation—left her feeling unseen and violated. Although the plan was eventually adjusted, the damage had already been done. One provider, referred by her primary doctor, made a lasting difference. “They taught me how to advocate for myself as a Black woman. Most people don’t know how, and it shouldn’t fall solely on us.”

Her support system—her mom, dad, partner, and chosen family—kept her grounded. And with help from a “phenomenal” oncological therapist, she began processing the emotional toll that surfaced after remission. “I didn’t realize how badly I needed community until then.”

Now active in Cervivor and the Ulman Foundation, supporting young adults impacted by cancer, Anjelica shows up in survivor spaces not to seek answers, but to offer hope. “Healing is possible. Remission doesn’t mean going back—it can mean becoming someone even stronger.”

Poetic Resilience: Pixie’s Voice

Pixie, a poet and Cervivor Ambassador from Snellville, Georgia, knows firsthand how gaps in care impact LGBTQIA+ communities. At 26, she was treated for cervical dysplasia, but not tested for HPV. “I wish I had known then what I know now,” she says.

Living with Ehlers-Danlos syndrome and type 1 diabetes, Pixie had always been vigilant about her health. So when she was diagnosed with cervical cancer at 50—with no symptoms—it came as a shock. “I felt numb, contaminated,” she recalls, struggling with the stigma of an STI-related cancer. She underwent a radical hysterectomy and bilateral oophorectomy. “It was basically the ‘Everything must go! Going out of business sale’ surgery,” she’s described.

Pixie Bruner

Living in rural Georgia, Pixie chose not to disclose her sexual orientation. “When I asked a nurse, ‘What do you define as sex here?’ the answer didn’t reflect my lived experience,” she says. After treatment, a conservative therapist dismissed her concerns about sexuality and body image. “I was reduced to parts—told they were irrelevant because of chemopause and their loss. That I should be grateful to be single. But I was still a sexual being, still human,” she says. “I fired that therapist.” 

Cervivor became her lifeline—offering connection, care packages, and space to heal. Her “fairy godmothers,” a married couple, delivered warm meals and encouragement. “Friends are my chosen family and were with me during the long recovery,” she says.

Today, she advocates for inclusive HPV education through Cervivor’s LGBTQIA+ community, and her award-winning poetry—including “Her Kind” and “Medusa With Cancer”—explores how illness reshapes identity. “Cervical cancer took ‘femininity’ and gender away from me in some ways,” she writes. “But my words helped give something back.” 

A Call to Action for Equitable Care

While Karen, Gilma, Anjelica, and Pixie each have unique stories, they share a common goal: a more just and inclusive future.

“I want a world where cervical cancer isn’t common,” says Pixie. “Where HPV vaccination is standard, no one is judged for having the ‘wrong’ cancer, self-care is valued, and early detection is affordable and accessible.”

At Cervivor, that vision means making space for everyone. As Community Engagement Liaison Morgan Newman, MSW, shares: “We stand with our cervical cancer community to demand protection and empowerment through prevention. As someone who’s faced this disease, I know the power of vaccines and the importance of accessible healthcare.”

Cervivor Ambassadors, Ann Marie Hartung and Kellie Defelice, tabling at a Pride event in Massachusetts.

If you or someone you know is part of the LGBTQIA+ community and impacted by cervical cancer, join the Cervivor Pride group (for more information, contact Karen), attend Creating Connections virtual meetups, or take part in local or national outreach.

Support Cervivor’s mission to end cervical cancer by contributing to the ongoing Tell 20, Give 20 awareness and fundraising campaign—honoring 20 years of advocacy, education, and survivorship.