Through the years, my “why” for participating in Movember has changed. What started as a surface-level way to raise awareness for men’s health has become something deeply personal.
Two years ago, my dad was diagnosed with stage 4 neuroendocrine carcinoma — a rare and aggressive cancer. He passed away just two months later. The very next week, my wife and I experienced a miscarriage. Those months were some of the hardest of my life, and yet, I felt… nothing. I wasn’t grieving, I wasn’t angry, I was numb.
It took time — and eventually, the birth of our daughter one year later, on the exact date my dad passed — for me to truly start feeling again. Grief hit me like a Mack truck, but it also reminded me that I was alive, and that I had a family and a purpose to show up for.
This past year, I’ve learned more about myself than ever before. I’ve learned how quiet depression can be, how it lingers in the background, how easily it can steal time, energy, and connection.
Now, two years later, I’m doing Movember not just for my mental health or in memory of my dad — but also for a close friend who’s currently fighting cancer. His battle has reignited my purpose to raise awareness, funds, and hope for all men who are fighting battles seen and unseen.
This November, I’m running miles, doing push-ups, and raising money for men’s health — for my dad, my friend, and every man out there trying to find his way through the hard stuff.
Here’s to showing up.
Here’s to feeling again.
Here’s to doing our part.
Cheers,
Jared