Her world had just stopped. The wind wasn’t moving the curtains anymore, a butterfly stood still on the flowers in the backyard, and the tea kettle kept whistling. Frozen in time, Danielle Grady held her phone to her ear with such force because it was the only thing keeping her upright. Her 3-year-old daughter was jumping on the bed in her room— the only reminder that the world was still spinning, though it now felt shattered.
It was the summer of 2017. Grady had just turned 40 and was ready to leave for a much anticipated vacation with her family. She had just completed her first mammogram, and she felt perfectly healthy both inside and out.
But her dreams of vacation rest and relaxation came to a halt when she received a call from the doctor’s office asking her to come back in to discuss the results. Knowing nothing, Grady tried to enjoy the rest of the trip, but something in her gut told her something was wrong.
Then she got the call. The one that came after a second mammogram, a biopsy and a lumpectomy. The call that told her she had cancer.
The following month, Grady went under the knife one more time, so doctors could remove the remaining infected areas in her breast. She then completed 35 rounds of radiation and began a five-year course of Tamoxifen.
She was in recovery—but according to Grady, the word “cured” doesn’t mean what people think when you’ve had cancer.
“If it comes back, it’s going to come back with a vengeance, which is truly terrifying. But I choose not to live in that fear. If it happens, then I’ll deal with it when it comes,” she said.
Grady’s breast cancer diagnosis created an opening for her. She realized she wasn’t satisfied with her job in insurance—that it wasn’t how she wanted her story to end. So, she made the decision to go back to school to earn a master’s in counseling, something she had been yearning to do for a long time.
“I think working through my own past and trauma gave me the freedom to heal,” she said. “And as I’ve gotten older, I just became more passionate about that. I wanted to help others learn the tools and know how to work through their stuff.”
Weeks flew by. Balancing her diagnosis and her new career path wasn’t easy. There were days when she couldn’t get out of bed, depressed and upset about the life she now had to face. There were days she felt scared—and incredibly alone.
“I didn’t want to tell my husband that. I didn’t want to tell my kids that,” Grady explained. “I was pretty young. It’s not in my family, so I started looking for answers and support.”
She found research articles about her diagnosis. She found coping techniques for treatment. She found books, journals, inspirational quotes—but not someone to talk to. So she decided to create what she was looking for: a breast cancer support group, partnering with the Licking County Health Department. Not just for herself, but for other women in Licking County affected by breast cancer who also felt unseen, afraid and lonely.
“One of the deepest reasons for starting this group was the comfort and belonging—to go and be angry or cry or talk about my situation, and listen to other women,” she added.
Knowing that other women were also struggling with her same diagnosis gave Grady a kind of relief. She had been unable to share those feelings with her family or friends—she wanted to protect them from what she was really feeling. But the group gave her what she had been longing for: empathy, vulnerability, and sisterhood.
It was around noon when Grady pulled out her laptop from under the new books she had just purchased about how to lead and grow a support group. She had been feeling okay after her most recent round of radiation, but she knew the group deserved the energy she had left. It was time to choose a name.
“I wanted the name to come across as a safe place. A place where you’re welcome. A place where you can find unity,” said Grady.
Eventually, she landed on Kindred Spirits.
Since October 2018, Kindred Spirits has met once a month. A session lasts for two hours at most. Women have come and gone—sometimes up to 10 at once—but there are five or six who are still regulars. The originals, you could say.
Being a nonprofit comes with its challenges, but with growing awareness and sponsorships, Grady believes Kindred Spirits can continue to expand and support more women in Licking County, where public health stats clearly show a need for breast cancer support resources.
According to the Ohio Department of Health, female breast cancer was the leading cause of new cancer incidence in Licking County from 2018-2022, accounting for 15% of cancer cases. During this time period, Licking County had 173 breast cancer cases
Each Kindred Spirits session is different. In the beginning, Grady was mostly teaching and sharing what she had learned. She even invited her surgeon to one meeting to speak with the women. Sometimes, the group meets for lunch or breakfast. Once, they took a weekend retreat to Ohio’s Amish country.
“We’ve done some arts and crafts. We’ve shared stories. I’ve done some psychoeducation. We’ve talked about cancer and nutrition, and about how breast cancer affects our mental health and families,” said Grady.
In an annual Ohio State University breast cancer seminar, Grady learned that when someone is diagnosed with a terminal illness, the way it’s handled can make a significant difference in the recovery process.
She leads the group with that understanding that educating yourself and taking steps to improve your well-being can help the body heal faster—your cells renew more efficiently and in greater numbers. But it’s not as easy as it sounds.
She emphasizes the importance of validating emotions—especially the fear of recurrence many women live with.
“Like I always tell the ladies—every time we get a scan, you kind of cross your fingers or pray and hope things are okay. But you just never know,” said Grady.
In 2022, Kindred Spirits lost one of its original members. Her name was Ruth Myers.
The loss was painful for Grady, both personally and professionally.
“I think as a therapist, you know what you’re supposed to do when these things happen. But when you get emotionally attached, when you’re in a relationship, it’s different,” Grady said.
Before her death, Ruth was able to face her new health challenge with the support and comfort that Kindred Spirits provided. She experienced a positive change in attitude—it gave her a renewed sense of hope.
Ruth’s daughter, Michele Dose, 47, of Heath, Ohio, began attending some of the meetings as well, to offer support and lead arts and crafts projects.
As Ruth’s health declined, Dose began driving her to meetings when Ruth could no longer drive herself. She would sit in on the meetings, initially just taking in the information—but over time, the group became a source of support for Dose herself.
“It was unexpected for me. I didn’t really expect that the group would offer me anything or that I’d get anything out of it personally,” said Dose.
After her mother’s passing, Grady told Dose that the group still wanted her to attend the sessions—that she was always welcome. At first, Dose didn’t know how to feel about that, because she doesn’t have cancer. She felt like she was intruding, like she was out of place.
“But it’s never been a thing. Everybody—even the new people—has continued to welcome me with open arms,” said Dose. “These people knew my mom, loved my mom, loved me through it. It was that that kept me moving forward, and it was that that got me to come back.”
It was a difficult time for the group, and the meetings after Ruth’s death felt incomplete. They could all feel her absence. But in order to heal, you need to let people in.
“For any type of group that you lead, it’s not about you. You might have a commonality with these people, but if you want to lead something, you have to do it because you care—out of empathy, and out of the love you have for humans,” said Grady.
Grady realized that the only way to heal is to be vulnerable. Vulnerable about your own fears and struggles, so that other people feel comfortable sharing their own demons.
“We don’t always want someone to tell us what to do or make it better. Sometimes that’s really freaking frustrating, right? We want people who are just going to understand it and let us feel,” said Grady.
And that’s the point: for these women to have a judgment-free zone.
“We don’t tell people what to do. That’s the way I protect this group,” said Grady.
It wasn’t an easy journey. But it led Grady to understand life better, to understand her diagnosis better. It gave her the insight to sit across from her patients and say:
“I’ve not been where you’re at, but I know anguish, I know pain, and I know trauma—and you can come out on the other side.”
Daniela Gomez Vargas writes for TheReportingProject.org, the nonprofit news organization of Denison University’s Journalism program, which is supported by generous donations from readers. Sign up for The Reporting Project newsletter here.