Margaux is that friend who makes everything seem easy, even when life gets complicated.
Her driving instructor recently told her, “No need to stress about your driving test, some people stress because they have cancer.”
Tough luck — Margaux had cancer. And if this guy felt comfortable dropping such a clumsy remark, it’s because you rarely come across 21 year-olds with cancer.
In fact, only 1% of cancer cases are diagnosed before the age of 35.
Alright, so it’s not exactly a fun topic, but this article isn’t here to bring you down. The goal is to shed light on something that’s both ever-present and taboo: having cancer in your twenties.
I’m not an expert, so I’ll keep it simple — no generalizations — just Margaux’s story. I crashed at her place for three months while she was undergoing treatment.
The diagnosis
As she likes to say, “You don’t just wake up one day and find out that you have cancer.”
We tend to imagine it like in the movies — the doctor sitting across from you, flipping through a file, and dropping the bomb: “You have cancer.”
But it doesn’t happen like that at all.
In late 2023, Margaux developed several cases of uveitis. Her doctor, concerned by the unusual frequency of this eye inflammation, advised her to get further tests. At the same time, a tumor was growing just below her right ear.
After months of exams — MRIs, CT scans, biopsies — and a surgery to remove the tumor, the diagnosis came in: cancer of the right parotid salivary gland. Rare, but curable in most cases. Luckily, it hadn’t spread, sparing her chemotherapy. She still had to undergo radiation therapy to make sure every cancerous cell was gone.
It took her a while to fully grasp that she had cancer because no doctor had ever clearly said it to her face. And she wasn’t about to self-diagnose. Saying it out loud made it real.
The Treatment : Between radiotherapy and an unchanged daily life
At that point, Margaux was interning at a surf shop in Biarritz, and she didn’t want her life to change she chose to stay there for her treatment.
Radiotherapy means five sessions a week, Monday to Friday, for six weeks. A taxi would pick us up in the morning, drop us off at the oncology center for ten-minute radiation sessions, followed by consultations with an oncologist, dietitian, and psychologist. She was always the youngest patient in the center.
The physical and emotional toll of treatment
Side effects kicked in after three weeks: fatigue, nausea, pain, nosebleeds, loss of sensation, itching, and localized hair loss. Burns gradually covered the entire right side of her neck. She also lost her sense of taste — and as a die-hard chocolate lover, that hit her hard. Smelling food but feeling like you’re chewing cardboard? Frustrating as hell.
Even when she had rough days, she kept living a mostly normal life — working, going for walks, seeing friends, going out. Doctors were clear: eat protein, rest, avoid alcohol. Obviously, we’re young and dumb, so sure, we ate well, but we also spent a fair share of mornings at the oncology center hungover.
The mental battle
I’ll let Margaux do the talking — she explains what went on in her head better than I ever could.
How did you handle it mentally?
Honestly, I realized something recently: my first thought when I was told I had a tumor (before knowing it was malignant) was, “Finally.”
Finally, I could let go of the pressure I put on myself, stop obsessing over my future, and allow myself to be weak without feeling guilty. It was like an inner peace agreement. When I found out it was cancer, something switched — I decided to stop being so hard on myself, to be kinder, to support myself. Laughing about it with my friends helped a lot — laughter therapy is legit.
Did you ever think you wouldn’t make it?
Not really, because I read a lot of testimonies from people with the same cancer who recovered. The doctors were optimistic, I didn’t have to go through chemo, and I was dead set on one outcome: remission.
How important was your support system?
It meant everything. I wouldn’t have gone through this as well without my people. Even though I like to act like this independent, strong woman, sometimes you need your 150cm best friend to remind you you’re a badass. (who just so happens to be the author of this article). And honestly, getting knocked around by life like this puts things into perspective — family, whether by blood or by choice, becomes everything.
You only told a few close friends about your cancer, yet you casually mentioned it to strangers. Was that a kind of guilt, not wanting to burden your loved ones?
Yeah, a little bit. But mostly, I didn’t want to worry them or have to manage their anxiety. I also didn’t want to drop the “I have cancer” bomb over the phone. Talking about it with strangers was easy — it felt like awareness-raising. It’s simple to look tough in front of people who don’t know you. I felt like a warrior when I talked about it, and that actually helped. Also, people’s reactions were priceless — honestly, it became my guilty pleasure.
Remission: The end of treatment
How did you feel when treatment ended?
Right now, I think the hardest part is actually after treatment — returning to reality, where I go back to being hard on myself and hyper-critical. Lol, I feel like I’m in therapy, but it’s the truth. Adapting back to life was harder for me than the treatment itself. Because honestly, the only times I felt really bad were either from physical pain or anxiety about my future.
As you told me before, you felt like you hadn’t moved forward in 2024 — do you still feel that way?
Totally. Some people say beating cancer is an achievement, but what choice did I have? I’ve been dealing with this for a year, and you’d think the hardest part is over, but mentally, I’m still processing it. I didn’t feel relief when radiotherapy ended because I’ll always be in remission — there’s always the fear it could come back. I had to put my life on hold, and things like school took a back seat.
Did you learn anything from this experience?
So many lessons! The importance of health — hence my newfound motivation to quit smoking and get back into sports. But ironically, also the importance of letting go — “one life,” lol. Learning to take care of myself without stressing about it, balancing a healthy life with indulgence — because you still have to have fun. A huge appreciation for my friends and family, the ones who supported me and the ones who found out later. I’m lucky to be surrounded by good people. And it really put things into perspective — life doesn’t have to be so complicated. You learn to live with less and appreciate more.
