Mickayla Jones

At 26, my life felt like it was just beginning.

I was focused on finishing university, building my future, and carving out my place in the world. I was balancing academics, multiple jobs, and trying to make the most of every opportunity. I had carefully laid plans, dreams I had nurtured for years, and a clear path ahead.

But then I began experiencing intense fatigue, nausea, and unexplained weight loss. I convinced myself it was just the result of pushing too hard—too many long days, late nights, and the stress of juggling work and school. I told myself I just needed to slow down.

But the symptoms didn’t ease. If anything, they grew worse, creeping into every part of my life and making even simple tasks feel overwhelming. I was constantly exhausted, struggling to keep up with the demands of daily life.

Finally, I decided to see a doctor, hoping for a quick fix—a few vitamins and maybe a change in routine. Instead, I was given news that changed everything: I was diagnosed with leukemia.

That diagnosis shattered my sense of normalcy. I went from planning my next steps to fighting for a future I had only just begun to imagine. Treatments, endless medical appointments, and the weight of uncertainty forced me to put my aspirations on hold. My focus shifted from building a future to surviving the present.

The first few months felt like being thrown into a storm. There were tests, treatments, and side effects that left me feeling like a stranger in my own body. I lost parts of myself—my energy, my sense of control, the path I thought I was on. I had to let go of the idea of “getting back to normal” and instead work toward building a new kind of normal—one where my health would always be part of the equation.

Despite the challenges, there were moments of unexpected strength. Moments when I felt more like myself again. When I reclaimed pieces of the life cancer tried to take from me. These moments reminded me that I am more than my diagnosis. That I am still capable of chasing my dreams. That brighter days are ahead.

I’ve learned that resilience isn’t just about pushing through. It’s about letting others lift you when you’re too heavy to stand on your own. I’ve been lifted by my family, my friends, and an incredible community that has rallied around me.

I’ve also found inspiration in the young athletes on my team, Mickayla’s Mermaids. These remarkable individuals stood beside me at last year’s Light the Night walk, their lanterns glowing with hope, love, and strength. Walking with them reminded me that even in our darkest moments, there is still so much worth celebrating.

My cancer will always be a part of me. A reminder that life took a path I never expected. But it doesn’t define me. It doesn’t stop me from living, from dreaming, or from standing beside others who know this fight all too well.

That’s what makes Light the Night so powerful. It’s a time to come together, to reflect on the challenges we’ve faced, and to honor the strength it takes to keep going. It’s a night where the power of collective hope and resilience shines brightly, reminding us that we are never alone.

Being chosen as this year’s Honoured Hero is both a privilege and a responsibility. It’s a chance to share my story. To stand beside others who understand the fear, the fight, and everything that comes with a blood cancer diagnosis. To remind those still in the thick of it that they are not alone. That their stories, like mine, are still being written—and that there is so much life left to live.

Together, we walk with purpose, with hope, and with the unshakeable belief that even when life takes an unexpected turn, we can still find our way back to the light. Let’s walk together, carrying our lanterns high, lighting the way for those still searching for their own path forward.

Because even in our hardest moments, there is always light.