I have been so impressed with how my friend of over 25 years continues to show up every day and be vulnerable in sharing her story. I invited her to share this particular article on my blog, not only because I think her voice is beautiful, but also because this is what authenticity looks like, and that is a big part of how I coach and who I am. Leading at all levels means bringing our full selves to the work and our colleagues. These are the stories that people are dealing with who you work with, the feelings that run through their body at any time. Being an inclusive leader, cultivating a place for everyone to have a voice, means hearing more of these stories and bringing them to the forefront.

The following is written by: Sarah Budka Ammerman – Human, cancer survivor, olive Hater. 

I’ve spent a lot of time in my adult life joking that I’m probably cursed. Let’s face it, based on my track record, it’s an applicable joke. 

When I was diagnosed with my first cancer, just over ten years ago now, I was so damn scared. God, how I begged the Universe. Please, please no. Not this. But of course the Universe doesn’t work that way, and cancer it was. And even when they told me I was in remission, I was still scared. Anyone who has had cancer knows that the fear never leaves you, not completely. You’re always waiting for that other shoe to drop. The fear just hovers, following you wherever you go. 

And every time they’d say, “We see something, we need you to come in for a biopsy,” or “Hmmm your blood work shouldn’t look like that, I’m ordering more scans,” once again I found myself begging the Universe. Please, please no. Not this. But each time it turned out okay! Until it didn’t. And I found myself saying, f@&k you, Universe!!!!

But here I am again, on the road to healing. Still dealing with lots of side effects and pain. But moving forward in a way many of the other cancer patients I’ve known never will. You see, survivors guilt is a real monster. It makes you question why you lived and others didn’t. And it eats at you because there’s no answer.  No matter how hard you search for one, you won’t find it.  

A few years ago I found myself standing in the grass at a friend’s funeral. We were diagnosed about a week or so apart. We both went through surgeries and treatments that brought us to our knees. We used to text each other late at night when chemo induced insomnia robbed us of our sleep. We were both declared “in remission.”  But then her cancer came back, and it came back with a vengeance. While she suffered, my body got stronger. And as her hair fell out again, mine grew longer. 

During her funeral I found myself mentally relaying every moment to her. “You would have loved the guy they chose to sing in church, his voice was incredible, and he was so cute omg!” Sending her a play by play to wherever she is now. I watched her son place a single pink rose on her coffin and I felt like I might shatter into a million pieces. “We’re all going to eat together now. Your service is over. The flowers were pretty.” 

After my cancer came back, and that other shoe finally dropped, I realized something. That damn survivors guilt has felt so heavy because I’ve been carrying it so long. I think I finally figured out how to put it down. The people I’ve loved that didn’t make it aren’t mad at me for surviving. They are watching me with such joy.  And their memories will never fade as long as I draw breath. I bring them with me everywhere I go.

 You see, it turns out I’m not cursed. I’m a walking miracle. I’m the luckiest girl around. I lived. 

So if you’re reading this, and you’re suffering in some way, or feeling unmoored, and you’ve been yelling at the Universe, begging for a sign that no matter what comes next you will be okay….

This is it.  

Note: Donations to the American Cancer Society are appreciated

Have you heard this before? I frequently was told “you’re too sensitive”, especially at a young age. I believed it to be an unworthy trait. Now I own it. That is right. I am a sensitive person. Things impact me. My emotions are clear and sometimes that means I cry. We are taught not to cry. “Crying is for babies.” “Big girls don’t cry.” “Boys don’t cry!” “There’s no crying in baseball.” Bad news, we do cry, and actually it good for us. Check out this article for more on crying and why it is good for you.

I had two clients talk to me about crying in the workplace these past two weeks. The first was someone going through personal ‘stuff’ and was afraid her sadness and tears would seep out during work time. I had told her during one of our earlier conversations that expressing my emotions in the workplace is one of my superpowers, and so when this came up for her she asked me to explain that further. I have cried time to time in situations with peers and managers about things that felt so big and impactful to me that I wasn’t able to find a way through them. The emotion overtakes me in the moment and I cry. Instead of adding that to list of things to feel bad and ruminate on how or why I let that happen I decided to own it. I am not afraid of crying. It doesn’t make me weak. It makes me human. Now more than ever do we need acceptance of human experiences in the workplace. It is clearer, then ever before, we do not leave our home life at home and come to work (literally since many of us are still at home). These lines are blurred and with that comes a messiness, a messiness called life. I asked my client to think about what it was doing for others who see that she gives herself permission to cry with her colleagues? Gives herself grace when she isn’t always happy? Could it give them permission to show up fully? An acknowledgement that we are human with human emotions and expression?

My second client was afraid her emotions regarding a work struggle would overtake her in a meeting and she would start to cry in front of her boss. “If I start to cry, I will need to get up a leave. If he sees me cry it means he won.” Won what?? Won knowing that you care so much about doing a good job and having positive outcomes for the work you do means sometimes you are moved to tears! Sounds like the engaged person I want on my team. The person who cares enough to cry!

Why is crying the ‘no no’ outlet of emotion? Why is it so wrong to be affected by situations in such a powerful way that the expression of that is water out of your eyes? We want people passionate about their work. We want people engaged! Doesn’t crying mean you are so moved, so challenged, care so much, that you would cry over it??

I am not advocating to boo-hoo all day long, this is where emotional intelligence comes into play, read a previous post on boundaries and oversharing. Not everything needs to effect to us to tears, and I suspect most of us do not spend all day in sadness (if you do, chat with a therapist, I have three on speed dial I can share their numbers). But when things do impact us and we cry, can we maybe not feel bad about it, or that we are watching our entire career of goodness get flushed down the toilet with the rest of the water works? It’s time for a reframe on crying!

Sometimes I just need a good cry. It is super cathartic. When I get to the point of tears, it is because I have been too strong, for too long. I have not adequately listened to me or taken care of myself. Crying gets those emotions out and on the table. When someone on my team has cried, which has happened quite a few times, I sit there with them, in it. I know this is something they are really struggling with. Silently I am pleased they feel safe enough with me to express themselves freely. I can see how deeply affected they are. We then both appreciate the weight of what is happening to adequately address it. The bigger question is why are we so uncomfortable with people crying? What would be your reaction (or bias) if a team member started to cry? How would your respond? Would you think of them as weak? As too sensitive? Too emotional? Incompetent? If yes, or unsure, to any of these questions you may want to consider what tone you are setting for people to be their authentic self with you. How are we encouraging people to bring their full self to work, to show up authentically, to be passionate about their work! But only so far that there is no crying or messy emotion. Being “too sensitive” is my superpower. Both for myself and for those who interact with me. I am good with the emotions and tears of living.

“Judge tenderly of me.” ~Emily Dickinson