The pink ribbon is the symbol of survivorship for those who have overcome breast cancer. Survivors wear this color proudly as a symbol of the war called breast cancer. It is a war that sometimes alienates and separates us, not only from families and friends but also from ourselves. However, breast cancer survivors are accustomed to war. We are seasoned. We are the women warriors. We are way past the color pink.

Like the veterans of other wars that march in parades, we don our well-worn sneakers and trot out to see those who are newly diagnosed participating in this year’s Susan G. Komen Breast Cancer Foundation, Komen Maine Race for the Cure. We pace ourselves. We understand that one diagnosis of breast cancer may not be the only battle. There could be more.

We are tired of the fight, but we will never surrender. On the contrary we are hearty soldiers. Some of us are the strong, silent types. Some of us are loud and boisterous in our search for answers. Answers to questions like how do we advance education to promote awareness, how do we identify risk factors, how do we establish better screening procedures, or how can we prevent breast cancer. We will be heard. We are way past pink.

We have learned to be less accepting of every promise, but more and more determined to find real progress in the war on breast cancer. Real prevention. Earlier detection. A cure. Those words are our battle cry. We are in the fight until victory is ours. We are way past pink.

We believe our questions have answers. We praise our troops for their support. We promote the efforts of supporting the fight. We are proud of the teams and individuals that raise money and participate in the Komen Maine Race for the Cure. We join up and stick together. We do what we can.

We stand and weep over the graves of our dead, just like soldiers on the battlefield. We remember. We have been here long enough to do so. We are an army way past pink.

We meet in YWCAs, in hospitals, in homes. Some of us are bald from chemotherapy treatment, and know what it is like to be desolate. We know what it means to come again and fight another day. We rush to the next conference, the next Web article, any source that has new information on the disease with quiet steady hope and heartfelt determination. We are way past pink.

We laugh while we fight our battle, as laughter is the best medicine. Our laughter is genuine, spawned by hopefulness. It comes from our heart and our gut. Places where once fear and horror resided.

Some of us are past the battle now and able to offer comfort to others. Comfort with which we ourselves have been comforted. We are going to stick around and fight. We will not give up. We will be there when you need us. We are way past pink.

I own this thing called breast cancer and it has made me stronger. I am a 10-year breast cancer survivor and I know there is hope for another day.

I am way past pink.

Juanita Taylor is the former race chair 2001 of the Komen Maine Race for the Cure.