‘Love, Danielle’ Speaks to the Hereditary Cancer Community

October 7, 2025
Georgia Hurst
Georgia Hurst

Georgia Hurst is a fierce patient advocate for those with Lynch syndrome. Her advocacy work has afforded her opportunities to write for medical journals, various websites, books and genetic testing companies, and collaborate as a stakeholder for the National Academy of Sciences: Genomics and Population Health Collaborative. She is the co-creator of #GenCSM (Genetic Cancer Social Media) on Twitter. 

As a Lynch syndrome previvor, I felt that the film “Love, Danielle” struck a deeply personal chord.

October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month—a time to honor lives touched by this disease and to raise awareness about prevention, early detection and support. For those of us with hereditary risk, it is deeply personal, a reminder of the vigilance required and the courage it takes to navigate uncertainty.

Awareness is more than a ribbon. It is knowledge—knowing your family history and understanding your genetic risk. It is empowerment—the ability to make informed choices about screenings, preventive measures and health decisions. And it is hope that through research, advocacy and community, we can face each day with resilience.

For previvors and survivors, community is everything. The shared experience offers understanding without explanation and the strength that comes with numbers. This month, we reflect, act, and connect—standing together with courage, compassion, and hope for the future.

As a Lynch syndrome previvor, I felt that the film “Love, Danielle” struck a deeply personal chord. Devin Sidell, who not only stars as Danielle but also lives with the BRCA1 mutation, brings a rare authenticity to the role. Her performance moved me, as it is rare to see the realities of hereditary cancer risks portrayed with such vulnerability, honesty and depth. Devin's firsthand connection to her character infuses the film with an inspiring authenticity, reminding us of the importance of embracing life fully — even when faced with genetic challenges.

For those of us who live with hereditary cancer syndromes, representation matters. More often than not, our experiences are reduced to numbers on a chart, clinical terms in a report, or passing mentions in the media. What rarely gets shown is the complexity of our decisions, the heaviness of our fears and the strength required to keep moving forward. “Love, Danielle” shifts that narrative. The film faces the harsh realities of having a BRCA mutation head-on, but still finds room for hope, resilience and happiness. It is a must-watch for anyone in the hereditary cancer community, as well as for those seeking a deeper understanding of the courage required to navigate this journey. More than just a piece of storytelling, it is a testament to solidarity, strength and the deep bonds that have formed within this community.

I didn't realize it when I met Raymond Cruz before seeing “Love, Danielle,” but after binge-watching “Breaking Bad,” I understood why his role in the film was a chef's kiss. Cruz, usually cast as a villain, surprised me with the vulnerability he brought to his character’s BRCA1 diagnosis — his performance added an emotional depth that felt genuinely authentic, serving a dual purpose: reminding us that BRCA mutations don’t discriminate by gender, and showing that true courage often emerges in quiet, unexpected moments. Watching him navigate fear, uncertainty, and personal choice made the story both deeply moving and profoundly relatable for anyone living with hereditary cancer risk.

Much of the film's grounding in hope comes from the influence of its producer, Amy Byer Shainman. Known as "The BRCA Responder," Amy has been a lifeline for countless people who live with hereditary cancer risk. Her advocacy, education and compassion have empowered others to make informed choices about their health. That same spirit shines throughout “Love, Danielle.”

Amy's influence is evident in the film's balance. While it portrays pain, fear and grief, it also reflects courage, determination and empowerment. Amy understands that knowledge, when it is actionable and can be life-saving, is invaluable. For Danielle, the hard choices — whether it's scheduling screenings, choosing preventive surgeries, or speaking candidly about family history — are more than acts of survival. They are also expressions of deep self-love. That outlook threads through the film, softening its weight and filling it with light.

What struck me most about “Love, Danielle” is how it makes room for both struggle and triumph. The film demonstrates that true strength is not found in pretending everything is fine — it is found in facing reality with honesty and grace. It gives voice to the sleepless nights, the grief that lingers after hard choices and the gravity of carrying genetic knowledge. At the same time, it illuminates the ways our community continues to find hope — through advocacy, education, connection and resilience.

As someone who lives with Lynch syndrome, I recognized pieces of my own story in Danielle's. I remembered what it felt like to wrestle with impossible choices about my health, to grieve in the aftermath of preventive surgeries, and to muster the courage to keep moving forward despite the unknown. Representation like this matters—it affirms those experiences and reminds us we're not alone. It says to previvors and survivors alike, You are not alone, your story matters, and there is strength in sharing it.

“Love, Danielle” also reminds us of the vital importance of community for both previvors and survivors. In my own journey, the deepest strength has come from connecting with others who live under the same shadow of hereditary cancer. There's a rare kind of comfort in that bond—a sense of being seen and understood without having to find the words. Amy has worked tirelessly to foster that connection for others, and “Love, Danielle” continues that mission.

The timing of the film's release is significant. As awareness of hereditary cancer syndromes grows, so too does the need for stories that humanize the experience. Statistics can tell us risk percentages, but they cannot capture the emotional landscape of living with those risks. This film does. It weaves together fear and hope, grief and joy, loss and renewal — much like the reality of our lives.

Ultimately, “Love, Danielle” is more than a film; it is a mirror for the hereditary cancer community. It reflects the resilience, vulnerability and courage it takes to stand up to genetic risk. It is also a beacon of hope for those who may not understand what it means to live with these challenges, offering them a window into our world.

For me, the film served as both validation and inspiration. Validation, because it captured so many truths I have lived. Inspiration, because it reminded me that telling our stories matters. When we share them, we not only empower ourselves but also create pathways for others to find hope and strength.

Amy Byer Shainman, also known on social media as The BRCA Responder, has long been a tremendous force for good in this community, and her resilience and optimism shine through in every frame of this film. Together with Devin Sidell's heartfelt performance, this story lingers long after the credits roll.

“Love, Danielle” is available to purchase on North American VOD platforms (including Prime Video, Apple TV+, and DIRECTV) and on DVD. I hope it reaches as many people as possible — previvors, survivors, caregivers, loved ones and anyone seeking to understand the depth of courage it takes to live fully in the face of hereditary cancer.

This piece reflects the author’s personal experience and perspective. For medical advice, please consult your health care provider.

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