Questioning my life decisions just before I go on stage is a normal part of my process. “No, for real WHY do I do this to myself?” I asked my husband, minutes before I was about to walk onto an elevated stage in front of over 2,500 people downtown Toronto last year. My nerves were going crazy, my stomach was weak and my body was vibrating in anticipation.
I’m pretty sure I said something like ‘‘why can’t I just go get a normal job or do anything normal?!” He laughed at me and reminded me that this is what I do every time I’m about to go on stage, and that I’ll kill it.
At least one of us was confident and having fun.
I remember telling him that I clearly need to find a new process, and started to literally dance out the nerves in a little area beside the stage – there’s a video of that somewhere!
For as long as I can remember, I’ve been comfortable speaking in front of people. Plus, I give a lot of credit to my earlier career in fitness because one hour at a time, one group at a time, I wasn’t just giving my clients exercise coaching. I was telling stories, filling silences, connecting with strangers, and making people laugh – even when they hated their lives because they were doing a lot of burpees.
Burpees were my thing. Ah, the good old days.
As a personal trainer and fitness instructor I learned how to entertain, pass time, read a room, and use humor to make hard topics feel lighter. I guess you could say that fitness was my first stage.
So when I was originally diagnosed with early stage breast cancer, speaking up about it felt like the natural thing to do.
I had to abruptly shut down my fitness business to have surgery and start treatment, and I decided it was a perfect way to keep my very supportive community up to speed with everything that was going on.
I started a blog to process everything, to share, and to connect. And I shared a lot of the day to day stuff on social media. To this day I cannot express how grateful I am for the community that supported me, because it made all the difference in the world. It gave me an even bigger reason to get through treatment and helped me stay positive.
But when my cancer came back as stage 4 and incurable, everything changed. It felt different. I felt different. This time, I didn’t want to talk. I felt exhausted, and narrating my whole experience suddenly felt scary. What if all I’d be was “the positive cancer girl.”
I was also afraid of what I’d be sharing with the world. This time the stakes were different with my children. There was no longer an end to this fight, and how it was going to go down was very uncertain. I didn’t know how to share openly and still protect them. They were young and although we were honest about everything, we still had to keep it age appropriate and be extra sensitive to their experience.
The gravity of my diagnosis, what it meant, the prognosis… I felt like I needed to keep some of the hardest details close, and I didn’t know how to balance it all.
So I didn’t. I retreated. I went quiet. I posted a couple times on social media. I wrote no more blogs. I quit my jobs, I focused on treatment and I didn’t think I’d ever have the time to work again.
My world was shrinking.
Then, in the middle of that darkness, the universe handed me something unexpected. A public speaking competition. I almost didn’t enter, but the timing, the ‘Against All Odds’ theme and how it came to be felt like it was a strong message that this was something I needed to do.
So I entered. And I gave my first real stage speech ever.
And I won first place.
Standing on that stage, hearing the audience laugh, feeling the energy in the room, and learning how my story impacted others afterwards, something inside me lit up again. It felt right.
That’s when I started to realize that maybe this was what I’m supposed to do next. I’d always loved speaking, and now I had something even more meaningful to say.
My words could help others who were fighting their own battles, and often battles that no one even knows about. Maybe my vulnerability could help others move forward with strength, hope and positivity too.
Resilience is not born, it’s built. I could be a part of that.
The saying is ‘if my story helps even one person it’s worth it’ and let me tell you – yes. It’s true. It’s everything.
So I followed that path. One more competition (and one more award winning speech). Then a podcast. A charity keynote. An audience of over 2,500 people. And one more, and one more…
And eventually, in a plot twist I didn’t see coming, I found myself not just speaking – but helping others speak and share their own messages and stories. Helping people find their voices in their own lives, whether on a stage, in a boardroom, or at a networking event (or even their kitchen table) felt natural too.
At first I was coaching fellow stage competitors, and then instructing classes at the University of Toronto’s School of Continuing Studies. Leading others to tell their stories, connect with confidence, and use their voice with purpose has meant more to me than I could have ever imagined. I’ve met so many incredible people and it has been such a fun way to go back to work.
And yes, I am happy to be back at work. It feels like a privilege thanks to my ‘special’ perspective on life.
I’ve learned that using your voice is one of the most powerful ways to take back control when life feels uncontrollable. Stories, speeches and communication changes the world.
It’s a way to turn pain into purpose, fear into connection, and uncertainty into meaning. It’s how we remind ourselves and each other that we still have something to give, something to say, and in some cases, something to live for.
For me, speaking isn’t about having the mic. It’s about creating impact. It’s about leaving something behind that’s important and personal. For me it’s real, unfiltered, hopeful, and inspiring.
Cancer takes so much, but it can give a lot too. A couple things it gave me was the clarity and courage to go after this career path.
So although I may question my life decisions every time I’m about to speak in front of audiences of any size – it’s the most amazing and energizing feeling in the world. I love it. I truly feel like I’ve been led on the right path, at just the right time, and I’m just getting started.