The question of whether I want kids is complicated by my concerns about genetics and the possibility of recurrence.

As for marriage, that whole “in sickness and in health, til death do us part” thing lands a little differently when you’re a survivor, as I assume it does for someone who loves that survivor.

It’s tricky—I find that there’s a weird tension between wanting to share in the name of authenticity and wishing you didn’t have to in the first place.

I think the outcome of the conversation has a lot to do with how at peace a survivor is with the reality of his or her own story— if I’m comfortable, my date is more likely to be comfortable.

Sure, everybody is just one bad biopsy away from cancer, but recurrence is a tangible concern for me in a way that it isn’t yet for most of my 30-something friends (and potential love interests).

It just lends an added weight to the possibility of long-term partnership that I didn’t anticipate when I was first diagnosed.

In the case of Cancer and Cancer, however, there are some real advantages.

This it because the way a man uses Cancer energy is very different from the way a woman does.

Clearly, the right time for this conversation is somewhere between the first date and the moment where you see each other naked, so there’s no awkward moment of, “Surprise!

One of my boobs is fake.” It’s more complicated than just parts and scars, though.

Ok Cupid has a lot of search criteria to help you find your ideal match, but I was pretty sure “cancer survivor” wasn’t one of them.