Still I Rise Podcast

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Have you ever been so busy surviving life that you never stopped to heal from it?

You know what I mean. Life throws something devastating your way, and somehow you find the strength to get through it. You pick yourself up, put one foot in front of the other, and keep going. And before you know it, another storm comes along.

For Kimberly Foley, life has been a series of storms.

She endured years of infertility and five rounds of IVF before finally becoming the mother of two beautiful boys. Then came open-heart surgery while her children were still very young, followed by a devastating divorce that left her raising those boys on her own.

And through it all, Kimberly did what she had always done.

She kept swimming.

She became the protector, the provider, the one who held everything together. There wasn't time to fall apart. There wasn't time to process the pain. Her children needed her, and that was enough to keep her going.

But years later, when her boys were grown and she was finally beginning to discover who she was beyond motherhood, another wave came crashing in.

Breast cancer.

A double mastectomy. Twelve rounds of chemotherapy. The loss of her hair. And eventually, the news that she would need a hysterectomy.

But something unexpected happened during her cancer journey.

All those emotions she had packed away for decades began rising to the surface. And during You Night's Candle Pass experience, surrounded by women who understood what it meant to carry invisible scars, Kimberly discovered something she had never given herself permission to do.

She could stop being strong for everyone else. She could finally let someone be strong for her.

Her story, Sink or Swim: Becoming the Shore, is about a woman who spent her entire life building boats to survive the storms, only to discover that surviving and healing are two very different things.

And perhaps the greatest revelation of all?

She wasn't simply the woman who kept everyone afloat.

She was the shore.

This is Kimberly Foley.

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Still I Rise features stories from You Night's STORY CRAFTING COMMUNITY.  To read additional stories, visit our Facebook page: 

https://www.facebook.com/YouNightStories.  Would you like to participate in a 6-week Story Crafting small group experience so that you can share your story?  Write to us at [email protected]

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Have you ever heard the voice of God?

There have been moments in my life when I believe God has spoken to me so clearly that I couldn't ignore Him—during grief, heartbreak, fear, and moments when I questioned whether the work I was doing even mattered.

In this deeply personal episode of Still I Rise, I share three experiences that changed the way I understand faith and God's presence in my life: a vivid dream during the unraveling of my marriage that led me unexpectedly to Psalm 91; an encounter during one of the most difficult seasons of my work with You Night; and a remarkable message that came after the death of my mother, just when I needed encouragement most.

At 63, these experiences have taken on a new meaning. I'm thinking differently about time, the battles I choose to fight, the people I give my energy to, and how I want to spend the years I have left.

For much of my life, I asked, "Am I worth it?"

Today, I'm learning to ask a different question:

"Is this worth my time?"

Covered is a story about hearing God's voice, trusting His protection, letting go of battles that aren't ours to fight, and recognizing that none of us knows how many summers we have left.

Psalm 91 says, "He will cover you with his feathers, and under his wings you will find refuge."

Maybe being covered doesn't mean we won't experience heartbreak, loss or hardship.

Maybe it means we don't have to walk through any of it alone.

The wings weren't there to keep me from living. They were there to make me brave enough to fly.

Support the show

Still I Rise features stories from You Night's STORY CRAFTING COMMUNITY.  To read additional stories, visit our Facebook page: 

https://www.facebook.com/YouNightStories.  Would you like to participate in a 6-week Story Crafting small group experience so that you can share your story?  Write to us at [email protected]

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There’s a difference between being bent and being broken.

Life can put so much weight on us that we barely recognize ourselves under it. It can change our bodies, shake our confidence, disrupt the future we thought we were going to have, and make us question just how much more we can carry.

But sometimes, it’s under that weight that we discover what we’re actually made of.

When Tara Alviano heard the words, “You have breast cancer,” her world changed in an instant. Suddenly, her days were filled with radiation, chemotherapy, surgeries, medical appointments, exhaustion, and fear. There were mornings when simply getting out of bed felt like climbing a mountain. And there were moments when she looked in the mirror and struggled to recognize the woman looking back at her.

Before cancer, Tara thought strength meant handling everything and not showing fear.

Cancer taught her something very different.

Strength could mean being afraid and showing up anyway. It could mean asking for help. Letting someone else carry you when you couldn’t carry yourself. Celebrating a good lab report, a short walk, a peaceful morning, or simply another day with the people you love.

And through it all, Tara kept coming back to one of the greatest reasons she had to keep going—her children. She wanted them to see that courage isn’t about never being afraid. It’s about what we choose to do when we are.

Cancer left Tara with scars, both visible and invisible. But today, she doesn't see those scars simply as evidence of what cancer took from her. She sees them as evidence of what she survived.

Her story reminds us that some of the strongest people we know aren't the ones who were never brought to their knees. They're the ones who discovered they could rise again.

Cancer may have bent her.

But it did not break her.

This is Tara Alviano.

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Still I Rise features stories from You Night's STORY CRAFTING COMMUNITY.  To read additional stories, visit our Facebook page: 

https://www.facebook.com/YouNightStories.  Would you like to participate in a 6-week Story Crafting small group experience so that you can share your story?  Write to us at [email protected]

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Today’s guest is especially meaningful to me because I had the pleasure of getting to know Adelia Ramos in a very personal way. I was one of her coaches during this year's Story Crafting program, where our little group proudly called ourselves the Iron Rebels.

And over those weeks together, I had the privilege of watching Adelia begin to unpack a pattern that had shaped almost her entire life:

Taking care of everyone except herself.

Adelia was only eleven years old when a traumatic injury changed her mother—and her family—forever. Almost overnight, she went from being a child who was cared for to becoming a caretaker herself.

And that role followed her into adulthood.

Adelia describes her life as an overflowing plate at an all-you-can-eat buffet. Every responsibility, every obligation, every person who needed something went onto that plate. And somehow, she kept finding room for more.

Everyone else was being fed.

But Adelia was starving herself.

Eventually, the plate shattered.

At 30, she found the courage to leave a relationship of more than ten years, faced panic attacks, depression and tremendous uncertainty, and began the difficult process of rebuilding her life. Her young son became the catalyst that helped her recognize a cycle she didn't want to repeat—and for perhaps the first time, Adelia began choosing herself.

And then came cancer.

But remarkably, Adelia says cancer taught her something she hadn't learned through all those years of being the strong one:

Grace.

Grace to stop carrying everything. Grace to say no. Grace to accept help. And grace to understand that taking care of herself doesn't mean she loves anyone else less.

Today, Adelia no longer sees herself as that overflowing plate—or even as the rock that has to hold everything together.

She sees herself as a leaf.

A leaf doesn't fight every current. It bends. It moves. It trusts. And most importantly, it decides where its energy will go.

Her story is called “The Plate Finally Shattered.”

And having had the privilege of watching Adelia find the words for this story, I'm especially proud to share her voice with you today.

She is a mother, daughter, caregiver, leader, advocate, cancer survivor—and a woman who finally understands that choosing herself is not selfish.

For now, and for the future, she chooses to be the leaf.

This is Adelia Ramos.

Support the show

Still I Rise features stories from You Night's STORY CRAFTING COMMUNITY.  To read additional stories, visit our Facebook page: 

https://www.facebook.com/YouNightStories.  Would you like to participate in a 6-week Story Crafting small group experience so that you can share your story?  Write to us at [email protected]

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Today’s episode is especially meaningful, and before I introduce my guest, I want to dedicate this conversation to someone very special.

My guest today is Olivia Joly, a cancer survivor whose story is rooted in family, sacrifice, resilience, and the belief that no matter how deep the valley, we somehow find the strength to keep climbing.

Cancer has touched Olivia’s family in a profound way. Two of her sisters have also gone through our program, making this journey one that their family has shared in a way few families ever should.

And there is something important I want you to know about when this conversation was recorded.

At the time, Olivia’s sister Idalina was fighting for her life against cancer. Since this interview was recorded, Idalina has passed away.

And so, with tremendous love and respect for Olivia and her entire family, this episode is dedicated to the memory of Idalina.

Olivia's own story begins thousands of miles away on the island of São Miguel in the Azores, where she grew up as one of seven children in a family that had very little materially, but possessed an extraordinary abundance of love.

In 1975, her parents brought their seven children to America with a few battered suitcases, no safety net, and an enormous amount of hope.

It was her father who taught Olivia one of the greatest lessons of her life: you don't stop in the valley. You keep climbing.

And Olivia would need that lesson again and again.

Through a failed marriage and single motherhood. Through her diagnosis with Hodgkin's lymphoma at age 50 and a frightening surgery that could have changed her life forever. Through the death of her beloved father. Through watching her mother face Alzheimer's disease. And through losses and fractures within the family she loves so deeply.

Yet somehow, Olivia kept climbing.

Her story is called “Becoming the Mountain: A Story of Peaks, Valleys, and the Legacy That Carried Me.”

Because Olivia eventually realized something extraordinary.

For years, she thought her story was about surviving the mountain.

But after everything she had endured—the storms, the valleys, the scars, the grief, and every seemingly impossible climb—she realized:

She had become the mountain.

Weathered. Scarred. Still standing.

And beneath every step is the path her father carved before her.

Today, we honor Olivia's story—and we honor Idalina, whose life and memory are now forever part of it.

This is Olivia Joly.

Support the show

Still I Rise features stories from You Night's STORY CRAFTING COMMUNITY.  To read additional stories, visit our Facebook page: 

https://www.facebook.com/YouNightStories.  Would you like to participate in a 6-week Story Crafting small group experience so that you can share your story?  Write to us at [email protected]

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Today’s guest has spent much of her life learning something the ocean eventually teaches all of us:

We cannot control the waves. But we can learn how to keep breathing when they come.

Jessica Palumbo dreamed of becoming a mother for as long as she can remember. But before that dream came true, she would face years of infertility, uncertainty, procedures, waiting, and the quiet grief of wondering whether the children she had always imagined would ever arrive.

Eventually, the tide turned, and Jessica became the mother of two beautiful boys.

But life wasn't finished sending waves.

Jessica lost her father to stage 4 cancer. Her mother would later face breast cancer. And then Jessica herself heard the words no one ever wants to hear:

You have breast cancer.

Initially, she believed it had been caught early. But additional testing revealed a much more aggressive disease. Her treatment became more extensive, and just one year later, another devastating wave arrived:

Metastatic breast cancer.

This time, Jessica says she felt as though she were drowning.

And yet, in the middle of that fear, she began noticing something else—little reminders that perhaps she wasn't navigating these waters alone.

Hummingbirds appearing at just the right moment. Dragonflies surrounding her on the beach. And the number 4:44, appearing again and again during some of her most difficult moments.

Her Catholic faith became her anchor. Her family became her strength. And her two boys—ironically, passionate surfers who love the very big waves their mother spent so much of her life fearing—became her reason to keep swimming.

Jessica's story is called “When the Ocean Waves Come: Finding Strength Beyond a Diagnosis.”

She has learned that strength isn't about conquering the ocean. It's about finding joy between the storms, trusting that calm waters will return, and remembering that no single wave defines the entire sea.

And just as importantly:

No diagnosis defines her.

She is still here. Still loving. Still hoping. Still breathing. And still rising.

This is Jessica Palumbo.

Support the show

Still I Rise features stories from You Night's STORY CRAFTING COMMUNITY.  To read additional stories, visit our Facebook page: 

https://www.facebook.com/YouNightStories.  Would you like to participate in a 6-week Story Crafting small group experience so that you can share your story?  Write to us at [email protected]

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Sometimes the thing that threatens to take your life is the very thing that teaches you how much your life is worth.

Today’s guest is Amy Benoit, and her story is about breast cancer—but it’s also about something much bigger. It’s about finding the courage to choose yourself after years of believing that keeping everyone else together was your responsibility.

Amy grew up surrounded by love, family, laughter, and a beautiful example of what home could feel like. But somewhere along the way, in a marriage increasingly affected by alcoholism, conflict, and emotional turmoil, Amy began to lose herself.

She stayed. She carried the family. She tried harder. She made excuses. And little by little, the confident woman she once knew became harder to recognize.

Then, in January of 2023, at just 40 years old, Amy was diagnosed with breast cancer.

And while cancer brought surgeries, chemotherapy, fear, and tremendous physical vulnerability, it also brought Amy something she never expected:

clarity.

After her tenth round of chemotherapy, emotionally and physically exhausted from yet another devastating argument at home, Amy had a realization that would change the course of her life:

She was fighting this hard to stay alive. So why was she fighting so hard to stay in a life that was making her miserable?

Amy made the terrifying decision to end her 14-year marriage while she was still undergoing cancer treatment. What followed was incredibly difficult—but somewhere in the middle of cancer, divorce, fear, and uncertainty, Amy began finding herself again.

She compares her journey to a lotus flower, which must push its way through darkness and mud before it ever reaches the surface and blooms.

Her story is beautifully titled “Rooted in Darkness, Blooming in Light.”

Today, the darkness is still part of Amy’s story—but it no longer defines her.

Because sometimes surviving isn't simply about staying alive.

Sometimes it's about finally deciding to live.

This is Amy Benoit.

Support the show

Still I Rise features stories from You Night's STORY CRAFTING COMMUNITY.  To read additional stories, visit our Facebook page: 

https://www.facebook.com/YouNightStories.  Would you like to participate in a 6-week Story Crafting small group experience so that you can share your story?  Write to us at [email protected]

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Today’s guest has spent much of her life being the strong one—the woman who carried the weight, protected everyone else, and learned how to tuck her own pain away where no one could see it.

Lisa-Jo Mitchell describes herself as Pandora’s Box: a beautiful, battle-worn treasure chest where, for years, she locked away grief, fear, anger, loss, and the parts of herself she believed she had to hide in order to survive.

And Lisa-Jo has survived a lot.

She became a mother under extraordinary circumstances while still a teenager. She endured devastating loss, including her brother’s death by suicide, the end of a marriage, struggles with alcohol, and the long journey of recovery. She built a career helping others navigate addiction and eventually learned that she carries Lynch Syndrome, a hereditary condition that increases the risk of developing certain cancers.

And then came breast cancer.

But remarkably, cancer became part of something Lisa-Jo never expected: an unlocking.

Instead of closing the lid tighter, she began opening it. She allowed people to love her, support her, and see the parts of herself she had spent a lifetime protecting. And she discovered that vulnerability wasn't weakness at all—it was courage.

Her story is called “The Key I Carried All Along: Unlocking Hope and Finding the Beauty Within.”

And perhaps the most beautiful part of Lisa-Jo’s journey is realizing that the key she spent her life searching for was never somewhere outside of her.

She had been carrying it all along.

Today, Lisa-Jo no longer defines her scars by what she has lost, but by what she has overcome. And after a lifetime of proving just how strong she could be, she has arrived at three incredibly powerful words:

I am enough.

It is my honor to introduce you to Lisa-Jo Mitchell.

Support the show

Still I Rise features stories from You Night's STORY CRAFTING COMMUNITY.  To read additional stories, visit our Facebook page: 

https://www.facebook.com/YouNightStories.  Would you like to participate in a 6-week Story Crafting small group experience so that you can share your story?  Write to us at [email protected]

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Today, I have the privilege of introducing you to a woman whose story reminds us that even when life changes the music, the song is not over.

My guest is Alisha Malloy, a member of the Gloria Gemma Breast Cancer Resource Foundation’s SheROSE Class of 2026.

Alisha’s story is one of extraordinary love, unimaginable loss, breast cancer, faith, and ultimately, grace.

In 2012, Alisha experienced what no mother should ever have to endure when her beautiful 17-year-old daughter, Ciara Charmayn Malloy — lovingly known as C-Me — was tragically killed in a car accident. In an instant, the rhythm of Alisha’s life changed forever.

Years later, cancer would change that rhythm once again.

But Alisha discovered something powerful along the way: when life changes the melody we thought we were going to sing, it doesn't mean the music has ended.

Through her faith, Alisha has learned to hear God's grace in the pauses, His strength in the broken places, and His presence even in life's most painful movements.

She calls her story “The Symphony of Grace and Faith: The Melody, Rhythm, and Harmony.” And I think you're going to understand exactly why.

This is not simply a story about grief or cancer. It's a story about what happens when a woman chooses to keep singing — even through tears. It's about scars we no longer need to hide, weakness becoming strength, and believing that the places we never planned to be may be the very places where God is doing His greatest work.

It is my honor to introduce you to an incredibly courageous woman and SheROSE, Alisha Malloy.

Support the show

Still I Rise features stories from You Night's STORY CRAFTING COMMUNITY.  To read additional stories, visit our Facebook page: 

https://www.facebook.com/YouNightStories.  Would you like to participate in a 6-week Story Crafting small group experience so that you can share your story?  Write to us at [email protected]

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Welcome back to our new season everyone!  Before we post all of the amazing interviews lined up, I have been sitting on my fourth story and pondering if I should share it.  Because Story Crafting allows participants to dive into traumatic experiences and find peace with what they have been through, well - it is only fitting that I took advantage of this platform and opportunity to do the same.

What happens when the life you thought you were building suddenly becomes the life you have to grieve?

In this deeply personal episode of Still I Rise, Lisa McKenzie shares I Can Only Imagine, her fourth story written using the Story Crafting process.

Beginning with the childhood heartbreak of watching her family fall apart after her father left, Lisa explores how those early wounds resurfaced decades later when the husband she loved—and trusted because he knew her story—chose to leave their marriage rather than fight for it.

But this isn't a story wrapped neatly in a silver lining.

It's about the complicated truth of rebuilding a life you never asked to rebuild. It's about learning independence when you never wanted to be independent, finding peace while still being angry about what it took to get there, and grieving the life that might have been.

Lisa also wrestles with a question many people carry after betrayal: Would an apology finally make a difference? Or is what we're really longing for something deeper—the acknowledgment that what happened to us mattered?

Perhaps healing doesn't require us to be grateful for what broke us.

Perhaps we can simply be grateful that we survived it.

And perhaps the most powerful thing no one can ever take from us is our ability to tell the truth about our own story.

“I can be angry about what happened and peaceful about where I am. I can wish he'd fought for me and know today that I am worth fighting for.”

This is I Can Only Imagine.

A story about abandonment, betrayal, worth, the life that might have been—and finally realizing:

I was worth it. And I am.

Support the show

Still I Rise features stories from You Night's STORY CRAFTING COMMUNITY.  To read additional stories, visit our Facebook page: 

https://www.facebook.com/YouNightStories.  Would you like to participate in a 6-week Story Crafting small group experience so that you can share your story?  Write to us at [email protected]