They were the hardest words I've ever spoken as a leader. Harder than delivering bad news about the business. Harder than making the tough calls that impacted people's careers. Because this time, the bad news was me.
Taking care of our people and our customers has always been one of the most rewarding parts of my life. Growing a company, seeing others succeed, and knowing you’ve played a part in impacting lives, that’s what drives me. Leadership has always felt a natural fit for me. Not in a controlling way, but as a space where I feel most myself.
So when I was recently diagnosed with cancer, I’ll admit, for a moment, I lost my footing.
My first thoughts went straight to my daughter, then my family, and then to my Jetts family. How could I take care of everyone when I wasn’t sure I could even take care of myself? It was a humbling moment.
I’ve faced challenges, setbacks, and obstacles in business and in life, but never with my health. Having worked in the fitness industry for more than 30 years, I had always taken my health for granted. Perhaps that’s human nature: we don’t truly value something until it’s threatened.
As a leader, you face an immediate dilemma: Who do I tell? How much do I share? How do I protect my team without overwhelming them?
Full disclosure
I decided to be open. Once I knew what my treatment plan looked like, I began sharing the news one-on-one. Some of my team cried, some were silent and others reassured me with words of strength. Each reaction reminded me of the depth of compassion in our people.
Eventually, I told the wider team in a huddle. That was tough, laying something so personal out in the open, but it was also a relief. They deserved to know why I’d be arriving late after daily radiation and why I’d be stepping back from certain activities, such as travel.
Their response was nothing short of incredible. They showed me an abundance of care and support, giving me cards and gifts. One who had experienced their own cancer journey bought me a beautiful merino blanket, as he had found one useful during his cold hospital visits. Their compassion floored me.
Then came the board. I told our chair on the golf course (yes, cliché!) and he was reassuringly pragmatic, treating me as he always had with respect and friendship. However, when I shared the news with the rest of the board at the end of a meeting, I broke down. Their shocked faces mirrored my own emotions and for the first time, I let the weight of it all show. But they were an incredible support to me, each individually reaching out with practical suggestions on how we could all get through this together.
I knew it was only a matter of time before the news would spread beyond the walls of our team and I didn’t want whispers or confusion, I wanted to own my story.
Sharing the news
So at our annual Jetts Gathering event, I shared my news from the stage. I chose to close with it, standing in front of a giant rainbow on the screen behind me.
I drew on a philosophy from Steve Jobs, that life is like a rainbow: we are born, we burn brightly across the sky, and eventually, the arc falls. None of us can control when our arc falls, but we can choose how brightly we burn while we’re here – that we must build something wonderful.
Jobs found this knowledge to be motivating, not depressing.
In that moment, surrounded by my Jetts family, I felt calm. Accepted. At peace. It was time to allow myself to receive the same support I’ve always given others and to focus on my own healing.
When I stepped off the stage, something happened that I didn't expect. People came up to me and shared their own stories. One had just been diagnosed herself. Another had lost his father to cancer only months ago. Another had been quietly fighting it for years. In that moment, I realised something profound: we are all simply humans, doing our best, carrying our own battles, often unseen.
The theme of this year’s gathering was "18 and unstoppable, driven by purpose – united by impact." It turned out to be the perfect description of the intense emotions in the room and trust me, they were already running high from our incredible keynotes earlier in the day.
The journey from diagnosis to sharing my story has been one of the hardest of my life. But I wouldn’t change a thing. I recently heard a saying: “You have two lives. The second begins when you realise you only have one.”
For me, this feels like a double rainbow. A chance to begin again, to burn brighter than ever before.
Gratitude and excitement
As I write this from my chemo infusion chair at Sunshine Coast Private Hospital, I feel nothing but gratitude for my family, my team, my friends, and every moment that has made up my rainbow so far.
And I feel excited for this new chapter: more aware, more grateful and more determined than ever to burn brightly in the sky.
The promise I made from the stage to our people was this...
- I am still here.
- I'm still your leader. And I'm more determined than ever.
- We have a brand that changes people's lives for the better and mine is no exception.
- We have a team who are driven by purpose.
- We are 18 and unstoppable.
So yes, I have cancer, but I'm still the same leader, business mentor, friend, wife, mother, daughter and aunty. But ultimately, I'm human. And I believe that true leadership is not about hiding our weaknesses, but allowing others to hold us up when we need it most.
Thank you to everyone who has been a part of my rainbow so far and to those I've yet to meet. Because I'm not done yet. I'm a double rainbow kind of girl!
