From Diagnosis to Direction: A Journey Back to What Matters
Reflections on purpose, life, and realignment and why I’ve launched a business that finally makes sense.
It’s been over a year since I was diagnosed with primary breast cancer.
The fear at the time was very real and to be honest, it still sits somewhere in the back of my mind. But after the treatment, and finally the all-clear, I did what many do: I put the experience in a locked draw - closed it, and rarely is that draw opened.
This isn’t a piece about cancer. It’s about what came after.
It’s about what happens when a major life event pulls the rug out from under you and suddenly, the job you were chasing doesn’t make sense anymore. It’s about purpose, about people and the strange satisfaction of helping someone else heal.
I didn’t fall off a path. I stepped off.
A year ago, I published an article on LinkedIn that felt like a white flag. I was walking away from two decades in marketing and brand strategy. I was exhausted from job interviews, and sitting in front of screens pretending I was ok, still chasing “the next big role.”
I wasn’t. I was in recovery from treatment, from burnout, from trying to be someone I didn’t want to be anymore.
I never imagined I’d return to nursing. But here I am.
Realignment, not a restart
After years in comms, I knew how to pitch, present, sell but I was secretly navigating radiotherapy, operations, solo parenting, fatigue and fear, all whilst trying to sound competent and interested in buyer personas. Still writing neat, bullet-pointed cover letters. Still hustling in a way.
But here’s the thing: the industry I was trying to stay in? It didn’t really care. Not really.
And there’s something psychologically exhausting about trying to bring your best self into a space that makes no space for the rest of you. So I stepped away. Not because I couldn’t hack it but because I didn’t want to squeeze myself to fit into those rigid roles anymore.
The joy of being where you’re needed.
This past year has brought me into rooms I never expected to be in. I’ve prepared patients for their own journeys pre and post-op, dressed and cleaned infected toes, various wounds and infected ulcers. I’ve spoken softly to people who haven’t had visitors in weeks, to amputees, to the terminally ill, to people like me, and people like you but with real-life challenges. I’ve seen bodies break down and spirits hold on.
It’s not glamorous. But it’s grounding.
There is peace in doing the work that needs to be done. No slides, no strategies, no egos. Just people with simple goals such as being pain-free, healed and able bodied.
The best part about this story is that in the middle of all this, I found something I really needed - genuine connection, the kind that felt missing in meetings about user journeys and tone of voice.
These days I’ve got a bounce in my step, one that didn’t exist a year ago. Because I know I am making a difference. I’m no longer split in two. I am just me, an unfiltered human, being useful, being kind, showing up! I also get to help businesses who want specialist comms support businesses focused on health and well-being.
When I wrote my original piece for LinkedIn, it wasn’t a marketing move. It was a personal one. I was saying: I want more. More purpose.
Since then, I came across the concept of moral ambition — it’s the idea that success isn’t about climbing a ladder or polishing your CV, it’s about aligning your work with your values. It’s about showing up for something that matters, in whatever way you can.
That’s where I am now. Still figuring it out. Still working. But no longer compromising who I am.
