So, here we are, and we’re only going forward from here. The rearview mirror is smaller than the windshield for a reason. I’m going to encourage you to be positive, hopeful and strong, even on your hardest days. Why? Because I guess that’s my super power. Finding the rainbow in the rain. And I love helping people. It’s what makes me happy. So, let’s do this together. I’m holding your hand.

My Background

I’m a horse girl, born and raised in Kansas City, Missouri. I attended Kansas State University with the sole goal of being qualified enough to land a job at the American Quarter Horse Association in Amarillo, Texas. Having read The American Quarter Horse Journal growing up, I knew that’s where I wanted to be. So, I put in the work in college, taking all the equine science classes I could get my hands on, and honing my writing skills on the school newspaper. I mention this, because it’s proof that hard work can pay off.

I did get that dang job. I accepted it about a month before graduating with my journalism degree, and I was thrilled to be a future Texan.

I ended up spending almost 25 amazing years in Amarillo, having the coolest jobs at AQHA that took me around the world. I met the love of my life, a born-and-raised Amarillo, Texan, with the adorable accent to boot. We raised our identical twin boys there. I wouldn’t change a single thing.

But my dad was always back here in Kansas City, and he was slowing down. We’d talk daily on the phone, and he’d explain his latest ailments and pain levels. I’d say, “Hang on for me. I’ll be there soon to take care of you, and you can fall apart then. Just let me get these twins graduated from high school.” You see, my amazing husband had agreed that the plan needed to be: Raise these kiddos the best we can, then dedicate ourselves to helping our aging parents. My parents were in Kansas City, so we made a plan long ago to move here where we were needed most.

My dad truly waited for me, and for that I’m forever grateful. Once the twins were graduated, we made KCMO our home. I got one full, amazing year of spending every day by my dad’s side until COPD complications took him. We said our final goodbyes on May 20, 2025.

Life was, to put it mildly, weird for the next several months. We were grieving my dad, trying to help our kids through their fledgeling careers, trying to hold down new jobs and learning the sometimes overwhelming responsibilities of maintaining my dad’s farm. But those months had a lot of happiness and fulfillment. We made a lot of memories, many of them horseback (my favorite kind).

Then December 2025 hit. The unreal pain that led to my diagnosis. The fear. The hopelessness. The feeling our lives were crashing down on top of us. In my lowest moment, I could hear my dad in heaven telling me, “You can do hard things.” I hung onto that like my life depended on it, because it truly did. Pancreatic cancer was coming to get me.

Ready or not, here came a series of very hard things, not just for me, but for my family and friends equally.

Because I’m a writer and a helper, I decided I’d vlog about my journey starting with Day 3 after my diagnosis. I figured it’d be therapeutic, and my hope was that it would help a couple people. The truth? Vlogging saved me. It introduced me to an incredible community of the bravest warriors, the most-loving supporters and the most-beautiful friendships.

And, just like in college when I was busting it to get that dream job, I’m committed to working hard for this beautiful circle of people. Let’s help each other. Let’s be kind. Let’s make somebody’s day just a little bit better.

Stay in the buggy with me. The hard things aren’t over, but we can do them together, holding hands.

#JuJuCanDoHardThings

@jujureynolds

My Friends

I’ve got a whole host of incredible friends who I’d never have met had it not been for pancreatic cancer. Like I say, it’s a club we didn’t want to be members of, but thank God we’re in it together.

Please follow these fantastic friends. They’re here to help.

Ringing the Bell

August 8, 2026, I rang the most beautiful bell in the world (because my talented brother made it for me). This signified the end of one leg of my pancreatic cancer journey: the finishing of 12 rounds of Fulfurinox. The Ring the Bell party gave me a chance to personally thank my friends and family, who poured their hearts into my journey, and it gave them much-needed fruition. Is my journey over? Oh, not even close. But ringing that bell was a nice “check the box” moment, for sure.