Finding Strength in Unexpected Places: My Journey with Support Groups

I have never been someone who leaned into the idea of support groups. The concept of bearing my soul to complete strangers was never something I found comfort in. Maybe it was because I had never truly been in a position where I felt I needed that kind of support. Or perhaps I never wanted to admit that I did. Saying I had “something wrong” with me never sat well either — not because I feared the words, but because it just did not feel accurate. I did not feel “broken” or in need of fixing. I had always handled life on my terms, facing my challenges with the support of family, friends, and my own inner strength.

But life has a way of surprising you — of humbling you — and showing you that support can come from the most unexpected places. And yes, those places include support groups.

I have been a part of many online support groups over the past year. I write a lot, often to help others, but also to help myself. Writing has become an outlet — a place where I can express things I might not say aloud. Yet lately, something has shifted. I have found myself not just joining these groups but actively participating in them. I even joined a committee. I would not have believed it a year ago if someone had told me this would be part of my journey.

Understanding Without Explaining

It is hard to explain exactly how these support groups help. Words feel almost inadequate. But if I had to try, I would say this: I was never afraid of dying. That fear never took hold. What I was afraid of — what truly haunted me — was the fear of not being understood. Of feeling alone in a crowd. My family and my husband have been nothing short of amazing. Their support means the world to me. But there is something different about connecting with people who truly get it — people who do not need explanations, who just know. In these support groups, I found people who walked a similar path, who felt the same fears, faced the same battles, and carried the same weight.

For the first time, I do not feel alone. That is powerful.

In June, I will be walking in the Brain Tumor Walk for the very first time. I have been told it is like having 1,000 cheerleaders in your corner — all shouting, clapping, and lifting you up as you take each step. The thought of it brings tears to my eyes, not from sadness, but from the overwhelming feeling of being seen, understood, and supported by a community of fighters and survivors.

More Than Just a Meeting

Support groups are not just a meeting or an online thread. They are lifelines. They are filled with people who do not just sympathize — they empathize. They are spaces where you can drop the brave face, where you can say, "I am scared," and hear back, "Me too." They are where strength is borrowed and given freely, where small victories are celebrated with big cheers, and where loss is mourned in unison.

And perhaps most importantly, support groups are where hope is cultivated. In stories shared and messages exchanged, hope takes root and grows. I have met people through these groups that I now consider part of my inner circle. We lift each other up, check in, and remind each other that we are not walking alone.

Being part of support groups has also opened doors to opportunities I never expected. Speaking on panels, writing guest blog posts, even co-hosting virtual events — these are things I never imagined I would be doing. But it is through these experiences that I have found new purpose. My diagnosis may have changed my life, but these communities helped me rebuild it into something beautiful and impactful.

Every week I join a few Zoom calls with my favorite groups. One is made up entirely of caregivers, and even though I am not one, hearing their perspective has helped me understand what my loved ones are going through. Another is specifically for brain cancer patients, where I hear stories that mirror my own. These conversations are healing, not just informative. They remind me of the power of human connection.

Some support groups go beyond conversation. I’ve been invited to participate in fundraising events, art therapy workshops, and guided meditations. These have given me tangible tools for healing and connection. Art therapy in particular was unexpected — but creating something with others who “get it” became one of the most healing activities I have done.

I have even found joy in giving back. I mentor new members in one of my groups, sharing what I have learned about navigating treatment, Optune, and the mental toll of Glioblastoma. Seeing someone go from fear to empowerment is a gift.

National Brain Tumor Society – Brain Tumor Walk

CancerCare Support Groups

American Cancer Society – Programs & Support

It took me a long time to see that vulnerability is not weakness. It is actually one of the greatest strengths we can possess. Being honest about where we are, emotionally and physically, opens the door to healing. Support groups gave me the space to be vulnerable. And that, in turn, gave me strength.

So if you are on the fence about joining a group, reaching out, or sharing your story — I encourage you to take that step. You might be surprised at the strength you find, not just in others, but in yourself.

We are never truly alone — not when we find the courage to let others in. Let them in.

Let them walk with you.

Let them be your cheerleaders.

And one day, you will be theirs.

Even if you think you are not a “support group” person, give it a try. You do not have to talk. Just listen. Read. Observe. You never know when a story will speak directly to your soul, when someone else’s journey will echo your own, or when a quiet message from a stranger will be exactly what you needed.

— JohnVsGBM

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Disclaimer: This blog post is based on personal experiences and does not constitute medical advice. Please consult a healthcare professional for any questions or concerns related to diagnosis, treatment, or mental health support.