How losing my husband inspired me to be vulnerable

Cathy Thorpe

I was at my daughter’s dance recital when I got the news that would change our lives: My husband, Harry, had cancer.

Harry and I met in Germany when I had just turned 30. I had moved there for work and fell in love with him the first day I saw him. He had an infectious smile and a way of moving through life that both honoured the little moments and created space for great adventures during our 19-year partnership.

The last two years of his life were spent fighting cancer, which was an incredibly difficult time to navigate. I had two teenagers who depended on me for support and normalcy. I had a husband who was sick. We were trying to figure things out together while also stepping into vulnerable and emotional conversations that would impact our lives.

I’m the President & CEO of a global franchise system that offers private home care to seniors. I’m used to supporting caregivers and families through loss, but my experience with losing Harry was entirely new for me.

It taught me so much about love, vulnerability, and authenticity, and had a huge influence on how I show up in the world.

Early on, I realized I had a choice to make, which particularly impacted the way I showed up at work. Was I going to put on the brave face of a CEO and pretend everything was fine? Or was I going to be real — with myself, my family, my friends, and my team? What would happen if I came to work every day as my authentic self and talked honestly about what was going on in my life? Could I choose to be vulnerable and express my grief and ask my team to support me during this time?

Cathy Thorpe

I’ve always believed that we shouldn’t separate our “work selves” from our “personal selves.” It’s all one life, after all. So I decided to choose vulnerability. 

This is what I learned:

Being vulnerable helped me be more authentic

As the CEO, I was accustomed to showing up to work with abundance and positivity, so I could inspire my team. However, as I navigated the loss of Harry and the hardest obstacle of my life, I decided to show up to work exactly as I was at that moment.

For me, the best way I could support my team and myself was to be honest about what I was going through. If I was sad one day, I would let my co-workers know. I didn’t want to be tip-toed around, and it was important my team felt comfortable looping me into workplace conversations.

If I expected transparency, I had to lead by example. This also showed up with my kids, shifting the vulnerability of our conversations.

By being vulnerable, others opened up and shared situations, personal stories, or obstacles they were facing. I don’t think they would have felt comfortable sharing if I hadn’t talked about what I was going through. There was a shift in our workplace and an openness that connected team members and created new relationships.

Normalizing talk about death and grief is healing

Talking about death and grief is uncomfortable. It is also incredibly healing. We will never normalize something unless we talk about it. It’s healthy to adhere to professional boundaries at work, but there’s still a place for conversations around death and grief to happen. So many people shy away from this, because people don’t know how to — or don’t want to — step into the uncomfortableness.

Don’t get me wrong — these are hard conversations. And I believe that we need to normalize talking about death and grief whether we are at home or at the office. If we don’t talk about it, how will we ever learn how to address it?

Being vulnerable has helped me grow

My experience with Harry’s passing has, over time, encouraged and inspired me to reinvent myself. I had some of the best years of my life with Harry, but I believe there are also great years yet to come. That’s the gift Harry gave to me. I’ve been trying new things — I started playing tennis and am learning to golf — and I have deepened my relationships with my friends, family, and team members in the process. I even started dating again.

By going through something so difficult, I feel forever changed. I’m curious and inspired to do more, and I don’t take my time here on Earth for granted.

It’s been nearly three years since I lost Harry. I often bring up his passing when I am doing a speaking event. Sometimes you can feel the uncomfortableness in the room when I talk in public about death and grief, but a lot of times you can feel a sense of relief coming from people who really connect with my journey. Grief is a part of life. The more we talk about it and are vulnerable about how we feel, the more we can connect with one another and live truly fulfilling and authentic lives. 

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