"Don't give up."
“You have to be strong.”
“Fight, don't lose hope!”
We hear and say these words often – out of concern, the need to support our spirits, the desire to express solidarity. But do we consider how much weight they really have? Can they help? Or maybe, on the contrary, do they add to the burden? In psycho-oncology, we increasingly pay attention to the language we use to talk about the disease. And it is not a question of correctness, but of the real impact of words, thoughts on emotions.
Disease is not war - and a patient is not a soldier
War metaphors have been present in media narratives, social campaigns, and everyday language for years. Cancer is the “enemy,” treatment is a “weapon,” the patient “fights,” and if they don’t “win,” they “lose.” At first glance, such a narrative may seem motivating. After all, fighting is associated with strength, courage, and determination. The problem is that cancer is not an opponent that can be defeated by strong will—and treatment is not a competition in which someone wins or loses because of their attitude. War metaphors can cause pressure, shame, and guilt in sick people. Because what if someone doesn’t have the strength to “fight”? What if they’re tired? What if the disease returns despite the best medical care and the patient’s efforts? For many people struggling with cancer, statements like “you have to fight” are a source of additional burden. Instead of strengthening, they weaken, suggesting that the outcome of treatment depends on the patient’s attitude. Meanwhile, cancer is a somatic disease, the course of which depends on many factors: the type of cancer, the stage of advancement, access to treatment, and also mental state. A supportive environment, space for emotions, effective coping strategies - can improve the quality of life and support the treatment process.
“Fight” – a source of strength for some. And that’s okay.
It is worth noting, however, that for some people experiencing cancer, the metaphor of fighting can be helpful and motivating. It gives a sense of control, strength, and motivates to act. If this is the personal choice of the person suffering from cancer – if this is how they want to talk about their experience – it is always worth following their needs. It is not about completely excluding the language of fighting from conversations about the disease. It is about being aware that it does not work for everyone, and the dominance of one narrative in the public space can have unintended consequences: a sense of guilt in people who “do not feel like warriors”, reinforcement of stereotypes, additional fear, or pressure to be “strong at all costs”. Not every person suffering from cancer wants or can fight. They do not have to fight. That’s right – they can get treatment.
You can heal. You can rest.
Cancer is a deeply human experience – affecting the body, psyche, relationships, identity. It is not a sprint to the finish line, but rather a process that requires flexibility, cooperation with the medical team and allowing yourself to experience a whole range of emotions – from fear to anger, from hope to helplessness. Instead of saying “you have to fight”, we can say:
- "I am with you."
- “What can I do for you?”
- "You have a right to be afraid."
These are sentences that do not impose a narrative, do not judge, do not exert pressure. They leave space for being oneself – even in illness.
Cancer is not a war – it is a disease. Let's talk about it in a way that supports – not burdens.
Words matter. We still hear too often about “losing the battle,” about being a “brave warrior,” about “fighting cancer.” While these war metaphors can be motivating for some, they can also carry a hidden burden: suggesting that all you have to do is try, that it’s all about willpower. And yet we know that’s not the case.
Let's learn to listen and accompany - without pressure, without judgment. Let's talk about treatment, not war. Let's give the sick the right not to have to be brave and strong all the time. Let's allow them to be afraid, ask questions, have a bad day. Let's give space for humanity - not for constant mobilization.
Not every disease requires a fight. Not every sick person wants to be a warrior.
You can get treatment – without having to stand on the barricade.
You can live – even with cancer, even without a gun.
It is not in fighting, but in mindful presence that strength can be found.
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mgr Katarzyna Binkiewicz
